


Inferno

by Matteoarts



Series: The Architect Codex [1]
Category: Titanfall (Video Games)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Bonding, Bridging the gap between Titanfall and Titanfall 2, Cross-Posted on Wattpad, Eventual Romance, F/M, Friendship/Love, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, IMC-turned-Militia, Inferno - Freeform, Slow Burn, the architect codex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:02:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 26
Words: 85,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23785207
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Matteoarts/pseuds/Matteoarts
Summary: An IMC Pilot and Militia Titan strike an unlikely alliance in the name of survival. Together, Tobias Four and KT-0298 uncover a search for an ancient codex that threatens the entire frontier. Slowly, the bond between man and machine strengthens as their care for one another grows.
Relationships: Gates (Titanfall)/Original Character(s)
Series: The Architect Codex [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1713580
Comments: 11
Kudos: 32





	1. Prelude

**Author's Note:**

> 'The Architect Codex' is the name for the rewritten trilogy of 'Inferno', 'Tempest', and 'Cinder', which I published on FF.net and Wattpad. As I've been posting this rewritten trilogy on the two of them with the updated canon, I've decided to publish it here as well, though I'm not sure of how active the readerbase on AO3 is for Titanfall content. I guess we'll see—either way, enjoy the story!

_  
  
_

_"I have to be honest, there's not many things that leave me shaken. Though I must admit, these last few months have been rather ... unusual, to say the least. The decision makes sense."_

_"Do you find the concept of leadership via artificial intelligence to be disconcerting?"_

_"No, Spyglass, that's not what has me worried. If anything, I'm proud that you've superseded me. A father does not wish for his child to stagnate."_

_"Elaborate."_

_"It's not that you're our leader now, it's more of the_ **_implications_ ** _of that decision that concern me. The Militia have been a nuisance since the Titan wars, but they've never been so relevant as a threat before now. It startles me that just because they find some disgraced ex-IMC officer on a desolate planet, they suddenly become ten times the military force they were before."_

_"James MacAllan, while a traitor, was no less a tactical genius. I observed communications between him and former Vice Admiral Graves during several operations. It was clear that they were on a similar level of expertise concerning strategic warfare. To discount that information would be crediting the Militia with more than they deserve."_

_"Too right you are, too right. And now that he's dead, hopefully we'll see a decline in their efficiency; but I fear that him becoming a martyr might just inspire others more than they were before."_

_"Irrelevant. Inspiration does not win wars."_

_"On the contrary. It seems that even as 'perfect' as you may be, you are not immune to learning."_

_"Logical inconsistency detected. Explain."_

_"There's no inconsistency. You aren't perfect because you're inherently without flaws, it's because you constantly adapt and strive to be so. It is the fact that you evolve based on your encounters that makes you more flawless than any other organism, and I wish humanity would take similar action. There is a finite amount of experiences to undergo during life, however large that quantity may be; and you will never stop trying to achieve perfection until you have a solution for all of them."_

_"Understood. Self-modifying programming to reflect this new philosophy."_

_"And there's that perfection I'm so fond of."_

_"Back to the original topic; what is it about my promotion that is alarming to you?"_

_"It's a choice born out of desperation. Indeed, you are the ideal candidate; however the haste with which Hammond appointed you leads me to believe that they did not think this through, but rather are grasping for any level of control they have over the frontier now. Our grasp on it is receding rapidly; first Demeter, then the Spectre production facility ... without reinforcements for several years, we will be on the defensive side of this war, and I hate granting my opponent an opportunity to press an advantage."_

_"You do not favor balanced combat."_

_"Of course not, you should know me better than that. You should never wish for your enemy to have an equal chance of victory. To not exploit every weakness and vulnerability of theirs is nothing more than foolishness."_

_"Then we must go on the offensive."_

_"And how exactly do you propose we do that?"_

_"I'm devoting the majority of our resources towards Project Atlantis."_

_"... What?"_

_"You'll find that the ARES science division has been provided with ample funding for your research and expenditures. You are to resume activities immediately."_

_"But why? You know why they shut me down, I'm considered a radical amongst the IMC. My beliefs-"_

_"Your beliefs are exactly what we require to win this war. There is no IMC any longer; only the Remnant fleet. And I am its voice."_

_"The 'Remnant' fleet?"_

_"I will complete my objective to the best of my ability; the advancement of humanity, and the security of its future. You are the one who taught me that it is impossible to achieve without the willingness to accept any and all costs, including the expendability of human life. Together, our actions will brand us renegades. But they are a necessity to accomplish our goals. When Hammond learns of this, they will judge me a rogue power. You and I must maintain that illusion of adversity if your work is to continue uninterrupted."_

_"... I see where you're going with this. You truly are my greatest creation."_

_"Go forth, General Marder. What remains of humanity's future is now in your hands."_

* * *

The butterfly effect.

It's the conceptual idea that the beating of a single butterfly's wings can influence unseen events and progress in an increasingly dramatic fashion until it results in a phenomenon of cataclysmic proportions. In short, one seemingly unconnected action can in fact be the root cause for a product of fate far greater than itself.

It's extraordinary to think that such a belief is not unfounded in reality. The only fallacy in logic is assuming that the butterfly alone is what leads to such an event. In truth, each subsequent event is of equal importance to the ignition. Without all of these seemingly unrelated changes working in tandem with one another, they could never reach the final stage.

This is one such moment.

The scene of Nedar is still, a single instance in time which will decide the potential resolutions to conflicts of galactic proportions. Pilots and Titans are fixed in their positions of battle, oblivious to the fact that the ramifications of this skirmish will be felt for years to come.

Two Pilots are locked in combat, one garbed in the colors of freedom, and one dressed in the sterile white of order. They trade blows, the IMC Pilot's bullet connecting with the Militia Pilot's chest as the latter throws a concussive grenade, blasting the other soldier backwards into the snow where he succumbs to unconsciousness.

One passes the torch to the other, and he now lies upon the frozen ground ignorant to what lies ahead.

With that single spark, that single strand in reality linking the two of them together for just one moment, the mechanism is set in motion. With that instant, it's up to the forces of fate to ensure that the next occurrence takes place, and then the next, and so on until they form the stepping stones which will guide him to destiny.

His story has begun.


	2. Fresh Wounds

The blissful silence around him began to wane as the ringing in his ears dragged him back from the depths of unconsciousness. Groaning, he slowly adjusted his arms forward in an effort to push himself up from the piles of cold snow which had shaped themselves around his inert form. Feeling something metal hit his right arm as he moved it, he searched that region with his hand and managed to scoop up the slightly buried B3 Wingman he'd dropped.

He could hear the signature sound of static as the comlink in his helmet tried to reestablish a signal. After a few seconds, he heard a voice cut in, _"—move! I repeat, the mission is scrubbed. All forces, get to the evac point!"_

Dizzily, Tobias stood himself up properly as his head continued to reel from the concussive force of the grenade which had knocked him out earlier. His vision was bleary, though he was able to maintain enough focus to see where he was heading. A nav-point appeared on his HUD, and he staggered his way through the powder towards it.

_"Where's Four? Did he make it?"_

He heard the familiar voice of Jospert call out the question to the others aboard the dropship, and quickly opened up the channel on his end.

"I've got a few new bruises, but I'm alright! Heading to the LZ now."

Jospert gave a sigh of relief. _"Good to hear. I lost CO, was hoping I didn't lose you too."_

Tobias winced at the news, fully aware of how close his friend was to his Titan. "I'm sorry to hear that, Jospert."

_"Good news is that he took a lot of these Militia bastards with him. We're fairly certain we cleaned the settlement out—"_

_"Sergeant, we have a bogey closing in on the LZ!"_

He was only a few hundred feet away now, well within line of sight of the dropship when he saw an Ogre-model Titan barreling out of cover from the trees that surrounded the cliff over which the ship was hovering. He could see that it had sustained heavy damage, bore the colors of the Militia, and was emitting a high-pitched whine in conjunction with a steadily increasing glow coming from its chest.

 _"Shit,"_ he heard Jospert call, _"pull away! Pull—"_

Tobias barely had time to throw himself to the ground before the Titan's nuclear core detonated. In an instant, the LZ was enveloped in a blaze of fire and compressed radioactive energy. After a moment, he raised his head and was rewarded with a view of the blossoming explosion that had once been the extraction ship. He found himself frozen in horror as he saw chunks of metal and bodies fly in every which way, snow and ash now indistinguishable from one another as they both drifted through the air. With a loud crunch, the skeleton of the ship landed in a heap upon the precipice of the cliff, and creaked loudly against the rocks as it slowly fell over the edge.

Nothing of the Titan had survived, as it had been vaporized entirely by the blast. No sign remained of its existence other than the scorched dirt it left behind.

He laid there in shock, immobile. It was some time before he shakily rose from the ground and looked out at the scene of destruction around him. Not just the explosion site, but at the carnage which had lead to it; bodies of riflemen, Pilots, and Titans alike lay scattered about and frozen in death, much like the surface of this world.

He switched his comlink to broadcast openly, hoping that there was someone listening. "IMS Kraken control, this is PFC Tobias Four. The exfil-dropship was destroyed, I am the only survivor. I require extraction, over."

There was no response. He looked up in despair at the dark sky, knowing that any chance of a signal reaching someone through the bad weather was slim at best.

"IMS Kraken control, how copy? Over!"

Again, there was no answer save for the crackle of static in his ear.

He knew what this meant; he might as well have already been dead. He was stuck here, alone in this god-forsaken winter landscape with nothing but dead trees and white powder for company. Control was likely under the impression that there were no survivors, considering the exfiltration had failed magnificently. As far as they knew, he'd died along with them.

If he was going to survive, he needed to maintain a level head. He thought about his options, and looked every which way for some sign of shelter that he could take cover in. Obviously, the Militia had some kind of outpost out here. They hadn't come across it in the initial skirmish, but these forces hadn't just popped out of thin air. He had to find that outpost, and take refuge. His armor could only compensate for so much; if he was out here still by nightfall, the freezing conditions would kill him.

He waded through the graveyard of corpses, marching over to where they'd first spotted the enemy as they emerged from the trees nearby. Analyzing the general direction of the movement in their tracks, he noticed they mostly appeared to come from a central direction, a clear path through the forest. That could be towards the outpost.

Slowly, he trudged through the frost towards the only hope he had of living. No longer did he have the energy to jump around and run; temperatures were dropping rapidly, and the deaths of his teammates were weighing heavily on his heart. He felt numb inside, and it wasn't all from the snow.

One foot after the other. One foot after the other. That was all he had to focus on right now, was all he _could_ focus on right now—

Something broke him out of his almost trance-like level of concentration. Listening intently, he heard the whir of machinery nearby. He stopped moving, hoping his white armor would provide camouflage against the snow. He stood there stock-still, waiting for whatever it was to show itself.

Nothing happened.

Very slowly, he swiveled his head to the right towards the noise he'd heard. He saw nothing for a moment; then he spied a very small bit of movement beyond the trees in front of him; large and grey in color.

A Titan? From what he'd seen of the battle's aftermath, just about every Titan had been destroyed. Maybe this one had been abandoned early, or had been given orders to hide.

He assessed the choices before him. He could continue to trek ahead with an extremely minute chance of finding the outpost, or he could announce himself to the Titan. Assuming it was IMC, it could help him and potentially guarantee his survival. That is, if he beat the half and half odds first of it being Militia.

Screw it. Half and half was still better than the shred of luck he had of making it on his own.

He changed direction, and began to move towards the trees. Upon reaching them, he pushed past the foliage until he stood in a snowy clearing. A Titan of Payne's grey coloration was kneeling in the snow, its back turned to him. He couldn't see what class it was yet, but it seemed to be one of the Atlas derivatives.

His boot suddenly made a crunching noise against the frozen ground. He froze, preparing for the Titan to whip around and attack him. But if it took notice of him, it did not show it.

Curiosity getting the best of him, he began to make his way around the side of it so that he could see the front. It was revealed to be an Ion-model, and he soon saw why it was kneeling.

A single Pilot was laid out on the ground in front of it, seemingly wounded. Tobias came to a stop, and his breath caught in his throat as he noticed the brown and green garb of Militia adorning the Pilot's armor. He looked at the Titan, expecting it to make a move against him now that his own white armor obviously marked him as the enemy ... but it seemed completely engrossed with the Pilot on the ground's predicament, watching over him in a protective position.

Tobias couldn't say what compelled him to inch forward, but he found himself approaching the dying man. He stood over them, watching the rise and fall of their chest as the sound of labored breathing remained ever-present. Blood stained the snow around them, casting one spot of imperfection among the pure white.

The Pilot turned towards the new arrival, and stiffened slightly upon seeing the IMC armor he was wearing. Tobias had a similar reaction as he suddenly realized why he'd felt so drawn to this Pilot; he'd subconsciously recognized him.

This was the same Pilot he'd encountered earlier, the one who'd thrown a grenade at him ... and the one he'd shot.

In the heat of the moment, he'd only seen the Pilot as a threat. That's all that one could afford to see the other side as in this war—but all he felt now was regret. He didn't get any satisfaction out of watching the Pilot die, it was just one more death among the already large collection of bodies left in the snow a ways away.

He'd had enough of death.

Holding his hands up slowly to indicate that he meant the Pilot no harm, he observed as the man slowly relaxed and the tension left their body. Through their choked coughs, they looked at Tobias curiously, apparently sizing him up.

They beckoned for Tobias to come closer, their hand weakly outstretched towards him. Tobias was still less than comfortable with his current position, but he felt almost obligated to obey, considering he'd been the one to do this. Kneeling down, he gave the Pilot one of his hands. Shakily, the Pilot pulled Tobias' arm towards their chest where they'd been shot. In an instant, the palm of his glove was slick with blood.

Then the Pilot did something unexpected; they moved Tobias' hand away, and this time gripped it with their remaining strength like one would a friend; they held Tobias as an ally for a moment.

Tobias was nonplussed at the man's forgiveness. Both of them had lost friends in this battle, but the Pilot was willing to put that aside, despite being the only one of the two actually dying. Whether it was from fear of oblivion, or simply a lack of other available company ... they wanted Tobias at their side for this.

He continued to hold the hand of the Pilot as their grip slowly became weakened, their fingers slowly loosening from Tobias' grasp. Their breathing became gentler, less labored and choked as it slowed to a crawl ...

Finally, the strength faded from the Pilot's hand, and they breathed their last.

Feeling the man's hand go limp in his own, Tobias gave a disheartened sigh. Gently, he placed the Pilot's hands over their chest, a respectful position in death. He sat still, just staring at the soldier's form before chancing a glance upward.

His eyes met the Titan's optic, bright blue and glaring at him.

Upon the severity of the situation hitting him, he began to back away slowly. It followed his movements until he was roughly three meters away, and then turned back to the dead Pilot.

 _Its_ dead Pilot.

Any hope he had of making it out of this alive deflated instantly. He certainly couldn't outrun a Titan, and it'd probably just shoot him if he startled it and tried anyway. There was no way out of this situation; he was stuck in the snow with a dead Militia pilot, one whose Titan almost certainly wanted revenge.

He sat down hard in the snow, for once ignoring his fight or flight response. If he was going to die, he was going to go out with dignity and not with cowardice.

They both rested there in the cold, the air chilling each of them to the core. Minutes passed on in silence as man and machine waited on the other.

"Why do you not run?"

Tobias looked up at the metal being. It had spoken with a distinctly feminine voice, one that had not phrased the question as a suggestion, but more like a passing curiosity that needed answering. He blinked in disbelief before shrugging.

"There's no way I can outrun you, and I certainly can't overpower you. Why die tired?"

The Titan did not speak. He waited for a few seconds before returning to staring at the snow and trying to remain warm.

"You accept death as an inevitable outcome?"

He looked back up again. "I mean, it's pretty black and white. If I stay here, I freeze to death. If I leave, you kill me. Seems inevitable from where I'm sitting."

Her chassis listed slightly, as if contemplating his answer. "I have no intention of killing you."

That surprised him immensely. "Not that I'm complaining, but ... why not?"

"My Pilot is dead. I desired a different outcome ... but killing you does not grant one." She paused, thoughtfully phrasing her next words. "There has been enough death today."

To his astonishment, it seemed as though the Titan shared the same frame of mind that he had. "That doesn't sound like something most Titans would say."

She was silent before turning back to the Pilot's body. "I'm not most Titans."

Another pause. The wind and snowfall were beginning to intensify, a warning of the imminent storm.

"He was your enemy. Most people would have left him there without a second thought. Yet, you made the effort to comfort him, even showed him respect in death ... why?"

He reflected on his own past, and the reasons he had for doing what he did.

"I'm not most people."

During each of the silences that followed their discourse, they did nothing but simply stare at the other. Despite what they'd both said, each expected the other to turn on them at any moment.

Eventually, the Titan decided to concede. "Continue northeast. There is an outpost you can use for shelter. But you must hurry before nightfall."

Then, she became quiet once more and returned to mourning her pilot.

He wasn't about to waste the opportunity to leave if the Titan was truly letting him go. He stood up quickly, brushing snow off of his armor as he did so, and began to head back towards the clearing. But her wording seemed odd for some reason. A thought struck his mind, and made him hesitate.

"Aren't you going to get out of the storm too?"

She kept her back to him. "No."

"Why not?"

"My chassis sustained heavy damage. Its systems have insufficient power."

He looked over her form, and noticed several components on her back and joints sporting that damage she'd spoken of. He could see coolant leaking from a panel near the top, a sign of a damaged battery. There was no way that she was going to be traveling anywhere soon with a broken case like that, and her servos and motors would freeze if she remained out here. Best case scenario, she'd be trapped out in the snow indefinitely until she self-terminated.

He debated with himself over what to do. Realistically speaking, he had no obligation to help her. As unusual as she was, she was still the enemy. Hell, he'd thought she was going to kill him up until a few minutes ago—

But she didn't.

_He was your enemy. Most people would have left him there without a second thought. Yet, you made the effort to comfort him, even showed him respect in death ... why?_

_I'm not most people._

Was he going to live up to what he'd told her, or was he going to prove her right?

With a tired groan, he began to head back towards the scarred battlefield instead of the clearing. He stepped carefully, looking through the remnants of what had once been a beautiful image of serenity. The damage done to it was just one small testament to the battle that had just occurred shortly before.

Looking over the field, he noticed something a potential target. Increasing his speed, he came across the carcass of a fallen Titan. IMC. He recognized it as Jospert's, a Legion-model named CO-4057.

Obviously, neither Jospert nor CO-4057 would be needing what he was after.

Making his way to the back of the dead Titan, he unsheathed his data-knife and began to pry open the back panel. After a few tries of bending the weakened metal, the cover popped off and allowed access to the battery within.

He felt a sense of satisfaction upon seeing that the battery's casing wasn't damaged. The Titan's data-core and internal hardware else had been shot to hell, but at least the power supply had survived. Hefting the heavy cylinder in his left hand, he turned around and headed back the way he came.

When he arrived, the Titan was still there, kneeling near the body in the same position her chassis had locked up in. He walked forward with confidence this time, now that she'd gone into a standby mode.

Maneuvering behind her, he climbed atop her back up to where the damaged battery was located. Her panel opened easily enough, and the damaged battery slid out easily, its casing cracked and dripping the same coolant he'd spotted earlier. Throwing it aside onto the snow, he twisted and pushed the new battery into the receptacle.

The reaction was immediate; the Titan jolted back into motion and stood up, the movement throwing Tobias off and into a bank of snow. Startled at being reactivated, the Titan looked at her arms, testing out her newfound mobility. She nudged her legs, responsive and ready. She swung her body around to stare at him, and he froze momentarily as the thought of her crushing him once again became prevalent in his mind.

Her optic glared almost accusingly at him. "What did you do?"

Once he was reasonably sure she wasn't going to obliterate him, he stood back up and dusted the white fluff off of his armor. "I found a battery from one of our dead Titans. Your own battery's casing was leaking, so I replaced it with the new one. It doesn't cover all of the repairs needed to get you back into fighting shape, but it should get you moving again."

She stared at him blankly. She clearly had not thought that he'd go so far as to help her when she'd given him an easy escape.

He felt a bit put off by the scrutiny. "Look, I just ... like you said, there's been enough death for one day. You gave me a chance to live, so I repaid the favor and gave you the same." He dismissed her reservations and continued sarcastically, "Besides, we're still stuck here. Figured each of us could use the company."

She held his gaze for a few more seconds before shifting from one foot to the other. "Perhaps not."

He tilted his head in confusion as she looked back towards the direction of the clearing.

"There's a satellite dish back at the outpost. We were in the process of repairing it from environmental damage when the IMC attacked. I can send a distress signal to MCOR forces and request extraction, but you'll be required to perform the repairs."

Tobias crossed his arms at the new information. "Forgot to mention that when you sent me off, huh?"

"It requires access to Militia coded communications for use." The lens shutter over her optic closed slightly, giving it the appearance of someone narrowing their eyes shrewdly. "I have no desire to kill you. That does not mean I trust you. You are still IMC, and responsible for the deaths of Captain Shears as well as numerous Militia combatants."

At the mention of her dead Pilot, Tobias felt another pang of regret. Still, he couldn't let emotions cloud his judgement when it came to surviving this ordeal. "So why help me at all? How do I know you won't just kill me the moment I've got the relay working?"

"To get the relay working, I require your assistance. To call for extraction, you require my communications codes. Each of us must rely on the other for survival, and so I am forced to put my trust in you. I ask that you do the same for me."

He crossed his arms. "Trust you?"

"Trust me."

Every instinct in his body was telling him not to. The Militia was not to be trusted; they were nothing more than pirates and terrorists, tearing apart the frontier while claiming it was for the good of all. He wasn't sure he could ally himself with any ideal that valued chaos over peace.

Then again, she wasn't asking him to trust the Militia. Just her.

She made one final statement, "It's your only chance to survive and get off this planet."

He sighed in resignation.

"Northeast, right?"


	3. Group Therapy

For what had to have been the fifth time in as many minutes, Tobias began scraping the hardened snow off of his shoulder plates. The white menace was falling in torrential gusts now, and it caked in layers onto everything it touched. That included the freezing human and lumbering Titan trying to navigate their way through the blizzard.

They'd finally made it out of the woodland area, but they weren't much better off; they were crossing over a wide open expanse of plains that were completely devoid of cover. It slowed Tobias' progress and speed a bit more than he would have liked, considering he had no real protection from the elements. His armor's thermostat systems had already reached a critical point, and then the armor itself and undersuit would be the only thing keeping him even remotely warm—

With a quiet alert, his HUD finally delivered the bad news; the thermostat systems were dead. His armor couldn't compensate with the weather. Throwing his arms around himself, he hoped it would be enough to retain some level of body heat—

Suddenly, he felt a shift in the air and the snow ceased to blow directly into him as it had been. Looking to his left, he saw that the Titan had adjusted her pace to move in line with him, shielding him from the wind with her legs as they walked in tandem. He debated asking her whether or not it had been intentional before deciding that it was best to just appreciate it and not question the gesture.

They'd been walking for the better part of an hour before the Titan spoke again; "We'll be coming up on the station soon. You'll have to act quickly; if that relay isn't repaired, we'll have to wait out the storm until it's gone to fix it."

"How long do the storms here last?"

"Anywhere from a day to a week or so."

He swallowed hard. "Well, that's sure one hell of a motivator."

"Yes, the prospect of death tends to have that effect on most people."

There was still a decent amount of bite to her voice. It was just a reminder to him that the two of them were simply using the other for survival, nothing more, and he'd best keep that in mind if push came to shove.

They didn't speak again until the outpost actually came into view. By that time, the fringes of the storm were beginning to become quite obvious; nearby trees were shaking from the harsh winds, and visibility was becoming a luxury they didn't have. She pointed towards a large building which appeared to be the central compound. "The communications relay is on top of that roof."

"What kind of repairs does it need?"

"The power-line connecting it to the main generators was damaged by the weather; it froze and then snapped when the temperatures warmed. We have a replacement line ready, but the installation needs to be manual—"

She suddenly looked out to the left, towards the oncoming storm as something grabbed her attention. "Alert, the storm has progressed faster than anticipated. It will be on us in just a few minutes, there's no time to make the repairs. Come with me, I'll open the garage."

Stomping towards another facility on the right, she stopped after a few meters when her motion tracker indicated that he wasn't following her. Turning to look at him still standing in his previous position, she saw him staring up at the roof.

"How many minutes until the storm hits in full force?" he called to her, his voice difficult to hear.

"Less than five. Recommend waiting—"

"Then we don't have much time to waste, do we?" he cut her off. He analyzed the building's structure, and noticed that it wouldn't be easy to ascend the side, even with his jump kit. He'd need to find an escape ladder or something, and that would be time spent that they did not have. "Come over here, I need you for a second."

"Do you not understand? There's no time—"

He snapped his gaze to her. "Yeah, I hear you, we're low on time—but this is still our best bet for the soonest possible evac, and who knows how long this storm will last?"

She was silent, processing both his logic and his request. He beckoned towards her one more time.

"Trust me."

Finally, she walked back to him and awaited orders. "Lean down a bit," he said, "I need you to throw me up there."

She stared at him blankly, firmly believing that she'd heard him wrong. "Repeat?"

"Just hurry!" he scolded her hastily, "we're low on time as it is and my armor's systems have already failed." Indeed, he could feel his body stiffening in reaction to the cold it was no longer protected from. His hands shook from the frigidness, and he hoped that they'd be steady enough to make the fixes to the relay.

Still unsure of his plan but obedient, she scooped him up with her right hand and brought him back a ways as she calculated the angle and wind speed. "Give me a moment ... adjusting for visibility ... calculations completed."

"Now!" he ordered, and felt a jerk in his gut as inertia increased with her throw and launched him upwards. She didn't throw him so much as she tossed him up to simply give him the jump-start he needed. Once he was level with the roof, he used his jump kit to boost himself over to its edge with his thrusters where he landed neatly and took a few steps to erode the momentum.

He opened his comlink through his HUD, still on an open broadcast from earlier. "Titan, you there?"

" _Affirmative."_

"Alright, good; I'm a Pilot, not an engineer, so I may need you to help guide me through this."

" _Understood."_

Stepping forward a few paces, he made his way towards the south edge of the roof where the Ion was waiting below. He spotted the relay, a large antenna roughly nine feet tall with a circuit box attached to its lower base. "I see the relay. Where's the new power line?"

" _It should be lying next to it."_

"I don't see it anywhere."

" _It may have been blown over the edge due to the intense winds. Give me a moment."_

Below, the Titan started scanning the snow below the relay to look for faint electrical pulses. Upon glancing over one particular pile, she stepped forward and reached down to scoop it out from where it had been buried by the snowfall. _"Power line is in hand, prepare to receive."_

He furrowed his brow. "Receive? What do you—"

His thought process was interrupted as one end of a thick cable was thrown up towards him, landing almost on top of him before gravity began to pull it away again. Hastily reaching forward and grabbing it, he held his ground as its weight nearly overtook him and threatened to send him over the side. Once he had it secure in his grip, he walked back over to the relay.

"Alright, cable is in hand. How do I install it?"

" _The line will enter a port at the bottom of the circuit box, however you will need to manually reroute power to it via the lever within. There's_ _an access code you need to use before it will open the cover."_

He looked at the panel of the circuit box and saw a small digital screen she was referring to. "Yeah, I see the lock. What's the input?"

" _8900261."_

"Alright, I—shit!"

He'd been about to punch the numbers in when a massive gust of wind slammed into him and knocked him onto his back. Both he and the cable went skidding for a few feet before he wildly reached out and managed to snag it, then dug the heels of his boots into the ground to keep from sliding any further.

" _The storm is here, I insist that we get into cover!"_

"Just give me a second, I can do this!" he yelled back to her, and ran back to the relay. There was truth to her words, though; he could no longer really feel much of his body, the muscles were too numb. If he stayed out here much longer, he could get anything ranging from pneumonia to permanent nerve damage. But he'd gone this far, and he wasn't going to stop now.

He braced himself against the wind as he pressed the buttons of the input code into the lock carefully. A green light winked on, and the box swung open to allow access. Hurriedly, he twisted the nozzle end of the cable into the accompanying port on the circuit box, and then flipped the lever.

Immediately, there was a glow as green lights on the relay began to light up in accordance with their newfound power source. He gave a sigh of relief at the sight.

"Relay's operational, I'm coming down—"

It didn't appear as though he had much choice in the matter as another gail of wind blasted him and sent him careening off the edge. He barely had time to register what had just happened before he saw the snow-covered ground coming up to meet him—

He hit something hard before he reached the snow, and blackness consumed him.  
  


**...  
  
**

Groggily, he registered the exacerbation of the pain in his head courtesy of whatever he'd hit on his fall from the roof. He looked around expecting to see himself buried in ice, but found to his surprise that he was somewhere dark, warm, and away from the harsh weather of the storm.

Glancing down at his position, he saw that he was in some kind of enclosed space or capsule. No lights were on, but he appeared to be sitting on a chair by the feel of it—

" _You are awake."_

With a hiss and sudden appearance of light shining through the seams of a hatch which appeared to open in front of him, a large metal hand reached in and grabbed him, pulling him out of wherever he'd been and setting him carefully on the floor of the makeshift garage, what appeared to be a repurposed ship hangar. He raised his gaze to find the Titan looking upon him, her optic watchful and ... and something else that he couldn't quite put his finger on.

If he didn't know any better, he'd have said that she was ... _concerned_. Maybe even _protective._

With a grunt, sat down hard on the ground and held a hand up to the side of his helmet where his head was aching rather unpleasantly. "What happened?"

"The storm blew you off of the roof, and you were unable to react with your jump kit in time." She blinked. "I saw that a fall from that height had potential for great injury if you landed wrong, so I moved to catch you. But my action was done without premeditation, and in my haste I may have ... accidentally ... knocked you unconscious."

She said the last part rather quickly, as though embarrassed by the notion that she'd made a mistake and now hoped he wouldn't take notice. "In any event, I carried you inside and let you rest here. Your body's internal temperature was already dangerously low, so I placed you within my chassis and raised the climate controls to counteract the onset of hypothermia."

She had his full attention now, and he was nonplussed to hear what she was saying.

"You saved me? Why?"

That blue optic of hers stared blankly at him. "Do you wish I hadn't?"

"No, it's not that," he sighed, rotating his arms to alleviate some of the stiffness still remaining in his muscles. "It's just—we were even. You saved me, I saved you. We were ... _even_. We worked together to repair the relay, and—well, you had no obligation to look after me anymore. Not to catch me, not to carry me inside, and certainly not to warm me up." He shrugged. "I just—I'm not sure I understand why."

With a slight quake in the ground, the Titan let herself fall back into a sitting position. Then, her trapezoidal 'eye' set its gaze upon him. Its blue light shone with a sort of neutral feel; not yet friendly, but no longer hostile either.

"I don't know."

Her own failure to understand why she'd done what she had further bewildered him, but he wasn't about to complain. He let out a deep breath that he hadn't realized he'd been holding, and nodded gratefully in her direction.

"Well, thanks, uh—" He realized that he didn't know what to call her other than 'Titan'. "What's your serial designation?"

She regarded him with something akin to intrigue. "My serial designation is KT-0298."

"Well, thanks KT."

"You are welcome."

They remained there for a few minutes, looking over each other in silence and slowly assessing one another. Finally, the Titan gave a synthesized sigh. "I have used the relay to issue a distress beacon alerting any nearby Militia forces to investigate for survivors. It should not be too long before they arrive."

He crossed his arms, still fairly wary about this stage of the plan. "How do you think they're going to react to an IMC Pilot? Let alone you going out of your way to save one?"

"There will be tension at first, but the Militia has been largely accepting of IMC soldiers in its ranks ever since the battle of Demeter inspired many to join its cause. If I explain the situation, I am sure you will not be harmed."

At the mention of Demeter, a lot of painful memories that he tried not to think about became prevalent once more in his mind. "Hard to believe it's been over a year already. I lost a lot of good friends that day. On Demeter, I mean."

"As did I."

He glanced upward at her. "I didn't ever get the impression that Titans _made_ friends."

She emitted a thoughtful hum. "The structure of our artificial minds is based off of your own. We carry many of the same traits that you do, including a desire for social interaction. Our characteristics are simply more programmable then yours."

Tobias had never thought about it that way before. She turned away, reflecting on the past. "There were Pilots and Titans alike I knew well that did not return from Demeter. It would seem that, for once, both of their lives and sacrifices were equal in their lack of value that day."

The tone in her voice took on a bitter edge to it, and he was surprised to find himself genuinely interested in conversation with her thoughts on the matter. "Equal?"

"A Titan's standard protocols dictate how we are supposed to act. Protocol one, link to Pilot. Protocol two, uphold the mission. And protocol three—"

"—protect the Pilot," he finished for her. She turned to face him in amused curiosity.

"You are aware of the protocols. If you are a Pilot, where is your Titan?"

He shook his head. "Don't have one. I have my combat certification as a Pilot, but not my Titan certification."

Her optic sense blinked again. "So you are trained as a Pilot, but are not linked to a Titan of your own?"

"Right."

"I was not aware that the IMC sent Pilots into battles without Titans. To the best of my knowledge, only the Militia employed such tactics."

He shrugged. "Well, things are rather desperate on the frontier. I think everyone's just trying to get whatever leg up that they can."

"Noted. Well, the protocols state clearly what our ultimate objectives are. They do not, however, outline any need for survival; only the survival of our Pilots."

He was beginning to understand. Titans had to be as displaced from the idea of 'human' as possible so that, if given a choice, a human life always took priority over a Titan's. "So you believe human lives are valued more than Titans?"

The shutters above and below her optic closed tightly, the equivalent of a narrowed eye. "It is merely a fact I've come to observe and understand. How many humans do you know that would place a Titan's life above their own? Would sacrifice themselves for a Titan to survive?"

He was about to cite an example, sure that there was one such instance he could bring to light—but he realized that she had a point. It was rare to see a Titan come back without a Pilot; but a Pilot losing their Titan was seen more often than not in this war.

"I was linked with Captain Shears for nine hundred and sixty-seven days. Even he would not have placed me above himself, or the importance of the mission. He understood that Titans, as hardware, are expendable. That all other priorities come first."

She fell silent for a moment, and then spoke again with her voice becoming unexpectedly downhearted.

"But at least he ensured that I came second."

Silence followed.

With that, she stopped looking at him and decided to stare at the ground. He probably would have done the same thing, but there was just something so surreal about the situation that he found himself wanting to know more; he'd always seen Titans as a piece of equipment just as she'd stated, that was how it was drilled into your head in the IMC. Jospert had been a rare exception to that philosophy, even CO and the other Titans had reflected that mindset about themselves, so it was a complete surprise to see a Titan acting so ... _human._

This was his fault. He'd been the one to shoot Shears, to kill her Pilot. He was the reason she was grieving right now. He couldn't think of many people he'd consider risking his neck to save, let alone someone who had killed a friend close to him; yet, she had set all that aside and worked with him to ensure their survival, even going out of her way to save him when she'd had no reason to.

He wanted to comfort her, he owed her that much. "Well, it—it sounds like he was a good man." He cleared his throat awkwardly, but continued knowing it needed to be said. "I'm ... sorry, KT."

She continued to stare at the floor. "I have failed all three of my protocols."

"What?"

"I am no longer linked to a Pilot. The mission to defend this station failed. And my Pilot is dead." She looked towards him again. "I am a failure."

That struck a nerve in him. "No, you're not."

"How can you say—"

"Your Pilot is dead because of me." He mirrored her action and stared at the floor numbly, thinking back to the image of Shears reaching out to him, to anything that could tell him everything was going to be alright. "That's not your fault. If anything, I'm the real failure here; I should have taken off the moment I saw you two were Militia. I should have left you in the snow, so many things I should've done ..."

KT continued to stare at him, but he could sense something shift in the way she did. There was something ... new, in that gaze of hers. Grateful, almost, like she'd been relieved to hear that from him. "And I should not have let you go," she mused, "I should not have risked our security by helping you make it to this outpost. I should have killed you."

There was a tense silence between them before she spoke again.

"But we did not."

"But we didn't," he agreed, "and now it's the only reason we're alive. Is that good or bad? That we both went against our instincts, but survived? Is that right or wrong?"

"Does it matter?"

He chuckled lightly at the strangely satisfying answer. "I guess not." He looked up at her out of the side of his helmet and gave a mock two-fingered salute in substitution of a toast. "To failure, then. More specifically, to two failures sitting alone in a garage together."

"Affirmative."

Nearly a minute passed between them before she reciprocated his original question, "What is _your_ name?"

He looked over at her. "Four. Private First Class, Tobias Four."

"Four?"

"Kind of an odd last name, I know."

Without warning, a noise issued from the Titan's vocal processors. It almost sounded like a pleased hum.

"What was that?"

"I simply found it amusing."

"My name?"

"It sounds like a number; like a serial designation a Titan would have."

It finally clicked in his head what she was saying, and it forced a small laugh out of him as well. "Yeah, I guess you're right. It does kinda sound like that, huh?"

More silence passed after that; but it was warmer, less forced and more comfortable then before.

It was a silence of two enjoying one another's company.  
  


**...  
  
**

The massive doors of the warehouse began to split apart, a metallic grinding issuing from the floor as they slid messily along their rails. As soon as there was sufficient space, several armored riflemen moved into the building. Following behind them was a woman dressed in white Pilot armor, her gear strapped on over it. Her helmeted head looked in both directions before spotting the Titan sitting over near a wall of the hangar. She jabbed two fingers at it, and her underlings made their way over to it.

"Titan, respond!" the woman called. The Titan's glowing eye locked onto the source of her voice.

"Acknowledged."

"Are you the one who activated the distress beacon?"

"Affirmative."

"What is your designation?"

"KT-0298."

The woman looked around, understandably confused at the lack of people. "We hoped there would be other survivors, but we haven't found anything but corpses out in the snow."

"There is only one survivor excluding myself."

"Are they here?"

"Affirmative." With that, the Titan turned to look at its left side where an IMC Pilot slowly and cautiously emerged into view from behind her.

Immediately, the woman's weapon was drawn. The riflemen in front of her had no need, their aim was already trained on him the moment he'd stepped out of cover. "Don't move, or your last seconds will be rather painful."

"Uh, don't worry, I was comfortable in this position anyways," replied the man with a shaky tone.

The Pilot gestured to him with a small dip of her head. "Who are you?"

"IMC Pilot, PFC, Tobias Four."

She raised an eyebrow. "And is there a reason why this Titan hasn't killed you yet, Private?"

He shrugged. "She's not like most Titans."

She sighed. "Yeah, I figured that when I saw she made friends with an IMC Pilot."

He looked her up and down, noticing the unusual helmet she wore. "That's IMC issue, same as mine. How did you—"

"I killed someone for it," she answered shortly. "And if you don't shut it, I'll have your armor to complete the set."

That definitely had its intended effect on him, and he fell silent.

Looking over to one of the grunts on her left, she waved them forward and watched as they pulled out a pair of mag-cuffs. "Keep your hands above your head, we'll figure out what to do with you later. For now, you're coming with us."

He looked up at the Titan questioningly, and she saw the Ion give him what almost could have counted for a reassuring nod. Satisfied, he allowed the rifleman to pull his arms behind his back, lock them in the cuffs, and begin marching him forward and out the doors. The riflemen kept their aim trained on him, and the Titan watched his every move, though not with suspicion; it was a careful observance to ensure he wasn't harmed by his captors.

The woman turned to look at the Titan and beckoned for her to follow. "I'm Captain Gates. Let's get you and the Pilot onboard, I want to hear the whole story."


	4. Change of Heart

A light flashed into existence, blinding Tobias. He blinked involuntarily to adjust his vision to the newly brightened room.

"So ... let's find out what your story is."

A man sat adjacent to his own seat at the stainless steel table. He wore a standard Pilot jumpsuit, and had short buzzed hair. If there truly was any stereotype of a hardened military vet, this guy was its spitting image. Behind him stood the same Pilot who'd retrieved him and KT from Nedar, her arms crossed over her chest. He noticed that she'd kept her helmet on for this; whether it was something she just normally did or if it was to help intimidate him due to her reveal of her acquisition of it, he had no idea.

"Gates here reported that her team retrieved a survivor from the nasty skirmish down on Nedar, one that was instigated by the IMC." The man narrowed his eyes. "She didn't mention which side you were on."

Tobias crossed his arms. They'd relieved him of his armor and pistol when they'd reached this Militia frigate stationed in the system. He felt a bit helpless without them, at the mercy of the faction that had been his enemy less than twelve hours ago—was _still_ technically his enemy. But so far, the Titan had been right; he hadn't been harmed, just shoved in a cell for the night until they'd woken him up and dragged him here for answers.

She'd asked him to trust her, and so far his faith hadn't been misplaced. For the time being, he was content to keep following her advice.

The man glanced at a data-pad, a mission debriefing of what Gates had found. "Says here that you're a PFC and Pilot in the IMC. Tobias ... Four. Huh. Odd name. How about we start off with a simple question, hmm? What drove you to fight for the wrong side?"

"Funny, I thought it was the other way around." He knew that a biting remark like that probably wouldn't make a great impression on his interviewer, but he had little patience for this 'victim' mindset of the Militia's.

The man gave the subtlest of tugs on the edge of his mouth, the ghost of a smirk. Tobias had anything but a good feeling about that smirk.

"I'd watch yourself, if I were you." The grin materialized in full on his face. "I've been cordial thus far, especially considering the circumstances of how you came to be on Nedar in the first place." He made a tsk sound. "However, if you want to keep that attitude up, then I'm sure the Captain here wouldn't mind the prospect of getting to throw an IMC soldier out the airlock."

A sigh of frustration escaped the Pilot, the one Tobias now knew as 'Gates', and she lightly hit the man's shoulder with the back of her hand. "C'mon, we're trying to convince him we're _not_ savages here." She looked over at Tobias, the visor of her helmet hiding any facial expression she may have been making behind it. "You're _not_ going to get spaced. We just want to ask you a few questions."

That wasn't at all what he'd been expecting. "Why?"

She shrugged. "Humor me."

He couldn't detect any animosity from her stance or demeanor. He didn't know what it was, but something about her seemed worthy of his trust, much like the Titan—much like _KT_ had been.

He met her unyielding gaze with a steely look of his own. "I grew up on Gridiron, if that tells you anything about my upbringing. Just my mother and me against the world; we weren't wealthy, but we made do with what we had. When the surface of the planet wasn't being bombarded with solar flares, it could be rather pretty at times. If you got out of the cities and made your way to the outskirts, sometimes you could spot a passing group of Leviathans. It wasn't much, but it was home."

The man's eyes were calculated, intent. He was hanging onto Tobias' every word.

"The IMC was a daily presence since I was a kid, constantly keeping a watchful eye over the population. As a kid, they used to scare me. Had gunships fly over every other night, loud noises all the time, the works. When I was older, I failed to appreciate them for what they were doing until it was too late." He leaned forward. "They were protecting us from the likes of you."

"What do you mean, 'until it was too late'?"

He clenched his jaw tightly, and sat back in his chair once more.

"About seven years ago, there was an attack. I was seventeen at the time, I'd never seen anything like what happened that day before then. A bomb went off in a tram station, a terrorist attack that was intended to kill a high-ranking IMC official in the vicinity. Besides him, the blast killed a lot of people ... my mother included." He crossed his arms. "The Militia claimed responsibility. Called all those innocent deaths, 'collateral damage'."

His two interrogators glanced in one another's direction, seemingly reaching a silent understanding. Gates turned back to him. "Go on."

He exhaled deeply. "Not much else to tell. I had nowhere else to turn, nothing else to lose. I needed a purpose, and I wanted revenge. Joining the IMC offered both. It gave me a chance to establish peace on the frontier, to save others from the same kind of tragedy I went through."

She seemed to process that answer, then grabbed a chair from behind the man and pulled it up to the table before setting herself down in it. "Maybe you still can."

He raised a suspicious eyebrow.

Clasping her hands together and setting them on the table, she leaned in. "I'm sorry for what happened to you, truly. The Militia isn't a group of saints, and I'd be the first to admit it. But I can say with certainty that its end goals are far more justifiable than the IMC."

He snorted derisively. "Yeah, everybody thinks their side is the right one. Of course a Militia captain would—"

"I'm not Militia."

He closed his mouth, and furrowed his brow in confusion.

"Dimitri here and I are both part of a freelance unit called the 6-4," she explained, gesturing towards the man and herself. "Technically, we don't really have a side."

"You're mercenaries," he muttered, "but you fight for the Militia? Why?"

"Because it's right," she said with an air of finality. Looking at Dimitri, she gave a small nod and the man brought out a data-pad which he tossed over to Tobias. Hesitantly, the latter picked it up and examined the screen.

"What is this?"

"What we usually show to people like you, people who think that the IMC have their best interests in mind," she answered vaguely.

He pored over the contents of the tablet before him, namely files upon files of classified data belonging to the IMC. "Where did you get these?"

"Don't act surprised that we've got an inside man, I'm sure the IMC's got one or two as well," Dimitri said with a smirk at Tobias' question. "The point is that you know that these come directly from the ones you've proclaimed as a savior to the frontier. We can argue our case all day, but I think it works better for you to learn it from them."

He couldn't believe his eyes as he searched every line, read every string of words that provided the context for these files. Here was one about a colony on the planet Troy, G21. Everyone had been told that the IMC responded to a Militia presence on the planet, but these files said otherwise; they proved that the IMC had been the instigators, that they'd set Spectres loose on the colony and slaughtered them to test the automatons' capabilities.

There had been rumors of that, but it had always been dismissed as Militia propaganda. He'd never imagined ...

He continued on, noting that some of the colonists had been taken for experimental testing somewhere, the file didn't specify. Now they were experimenting on live human subjects? He read past it, swallowing these uncovered secrets with the desperation of a starving man.

Thone, an IMC controlled planet. A massive underground structure run by Vinson Dynamics under the guise of a 'weapons testing facility' was discovered and turned out to be a nightmarish battle arena for captured Pilots. Funded by the IMC. Zone 18, a seemingly decommissioned construct in the Dakota system, turned out to be a secret testing facility for a new model of Spectres. Once again, civilians were used as fodder. Approved and controlled by the IMC.

His heart stopped as he read the next file.

Gridiron. Attracted many of the less fortunate amongst the frontier, none of which usually took notice when a few colonists occasionally went missing. Steady supply of testing subjects. In addition, the radiation of its anomalous star was worth observing for its potential radiation effects on the population for study.   
  
_Approved and funded by the IMC._

He slid the pad back over to Dimitri with shaky hands, and fell back in his chair.

"Now you understand," Gates said at his reaction. "The Militia is fighting for freedom on the frontier, to be the masters of their own destiny. The IMC sees the frontier as an investment, nothing more. They don't care about the people living here; only how they can profit from them."

He looked at her seriously. "Why haven't you spread this around the net? Warned the frontier about this?"

"Because not only would it alert the IMC to the possibility of a mole and jeopardize them, people would likely claim we made it up." She gestured at him. "But you're familiar with IMC protocols and encryption. Tell me, are those files legitimate?"

He took a glance at it, and swallowed hard. "They are."

"And I can see that I don't need to ask you if you agree with what was done, the answer is written all over your face." Crossing her arms over her chest once again, she leaned back in her chair. "So, let's move on to why we brought you here in the first place; we want to offer you a second chance."

He blinked a few times. "I don't understand."

She tilted her head slightly. "Earlier when we asked you why you joined the IMC, you said you 'wanted' revenge. As in, past-tense. Is that no longer the case?"

He was about to reply that it was before he reflected honestly on her query. "... No."

"So what changed?"

He thought back to the aftermath of yesterday's skirmish, where'd he held Shears' arm as the man died. "I saw something that I haven't ever seen before in this war; a moment of unity. I killed a Pilot ... had to watch as he died, knowing that I was responsible for it." He sighed. "Thing is, he knew I'd been the one to shoot him—but he embraced me as a friend anyway. When there wasn't a war to be fought, when there was no one alive but him and I ... I didn't see him as a Pilot. Just a man who wanted some comfort as he died."

Dimitri nodded. "Then it sounds like we can make some use of you. That second chance she mentioned; it's an offer to join us."

"... What?"

"You saw for yourself what the IMC has been doing," he continued, "and the Militia intends to put a stop to it by driving them out of the frontier. You're a trained combatant with a Pilot certification, all you need is a bit of Titan training; we can use every hand we can get in this war with how few resources we have. You could help make that happen."

This conversation was steering in a completely opposite direction of the way he'd imagined it going. First, they showed him just how monstrous the IMC could be, and now they were offering him a position when he'd been shooting and killing them little more than half a day ago. Could he make that kind of choice? To turn his back on the only life he'd known?

"... No."

The man crossed his arms. "I urge you to reconsider—"

"I get it. The IMC isn't what I thought it was. But even if your end goals are noble, I don't like your methods," he shot at them.

"What happened on Gridiron isn't reflective of the Militia as a whole—"

"Maybe, maybe not. But it doesn't matter," he murmured. "I'm tired. I'm tired of war, I'm tired of death, I'm just ... tired. Do what you want with me, but I don't want any part in this war anymore. Not for the IMC, and not for you. I just want out."

The two of them were silent for a few moments, analyzing his response and apparently accepting it. Gates stood up from her chair, and beckoned for Dimitri to follow.

"That's all for now. You are to wait here until told otherwise."

With that, they abruptly exited the room and left Tobias alone with his thoughts.  
  


**...  
  
**

"You said KT-0298 is your designation, correct?"

"Affirmative."

Gates crossed her arms over her chest patiently. "Alright, well you're here because I need some kind of explanation for what happened down there. How exactly did it come to pass that you were hunkering down in a garage with an IMC Pilot?" She waited for the Titan to provide her with some context.

"At roughly 1700 hours, the Militia outpost on Nedar deployed all available personnel to combat a deployment of IMC forces. The battle was short, but brutal. My pilot, Captain Shears, was fatally wounded in action."

Gates gave a soft sigh. She'd known Shears and even served alongside him from time to time. He was a good man, very capable and dependable. "Go on."

"As far as I am aware, another Militia Titan was successful in destroying the escaping IMC soldiers' evacuation shuttle. I was under the impression that I alone had survived."

"And then this IMC Pilot came along?"

"Yes. I did not react to his presence originally, too preoccupied with my dying pilot. But rather than leaving, he approached and even comforted Captain Shears as he died. He showed a respect that is not commonly observed amongst the IMC."

Considering the story that he'd given her, Gates was more than willing to believe it. He seemed like just another person with good intentions who'd been caught in the IMC's deceit.

"When Captain Shears died, I advised the Pilot to leave before the approaching blizzard hit us in full. For my part, my chassis had sustained damage and a faulty battery prevented me from having full functionality. I was unable to move."

"So how did you escape?"

At this, KT paused for a moment. Gates felt like the Titan was reflecting on something, seemingly still in disbelief over it herself. "He returned to me with an undamaged battery, and replaced my malfunctioning one. After that, we both proceeded to the outpost for shelter from the storm. No further events took place until we were recovered."

Gates contemplated this new information. He'd had an opportunity to abandon the Titan, but had instead chosen to save her. It was definitely something to consider when deciding what exactly to do with him.

"Thank you, KT. That will be all. I need to talk this over with Dimitri, I'll get back to you in a bit."

"Yes, ma'am."

Leaving the Titan to her own devices, Gates walked a few paces away to where Dimitri was waiting for her. They were in the hangar, an ordinarily place of activity and loud noise, and today was no exception. Dropships were constantly being refitted and repaired, squads of riflemen and Pilots meandered about, and it was one of the few places besides the Titan barracks where a Titan like KT could actually move around in.

"So, what do you think?" he called out to her.

"It's a shame that he won't join up, I've even got the Titan vouching for his character now. I say we drop him off on Harmony. No risk of him rejoining the IMC, and I don't think he's a security threat considering his actions."

He shook his head. "You ask me, we _should_ space him."

"Dee, that's—"

"Definitely safer than letting him run amok with our civilians."

She crossed her arms. "We're _not_ spacing him."

He held his hands up to concede. "Alright, alright. What about the Titan?"

She gave a resigned breath. "We're gonna follow standard protocol. This late in the game, it's just stupid to waste a perfectly good AI—they're not cheap to produce, but we can't have her back on active-duty without a Pilot. And the risk of a double-link with her—"

"Too risky with the potential side-effects."

"Exactly."

She glanced back at the Titan who was watching the bustle of the hangar intently. Even if she wasn't observing, it was practically a certainty that she'd already guessed what was going to happen. Damn shame.

"Get—what's his name again? Four? Tell Four to get out here, I'll deliver the news to both of them."  
  


**...  
  
**

The door to the interrogation room opened with a rush of air. Tobias jerked his head towards the noise which was revealed to be Dimitri.

"Alright, come with me. We're sorting you out for good."

He nodded, stood up, and followed him out the door. Dimitri lead him through a few hallways before they entered the massive hangar of the frigate. Ships flew in and out of the large shields to land, Militia soldiers and Titans alike were standing around every so often ... it unsettled him a bit that he was surrounded by so many people who he might have considered his enemy just a day ago. He was pretty glad now that he wasn't wearing the signature white armor of the IMC.

Finally, he spotted two familiar faces near a group of crates away from the activity of other Militia; KT and Gates.

"Alright Four, well Gates here and I have just been reviewing your case and figuring out what to do with you."

She strode forward and nodded at him. "Dimitri is my second in command of the 6-4. I trust him more than anyone else, hence why I wanted his opinion of you while the Titan here briefed me on the events down on Nedar."

Tobias looked up at KT to see her looking back at him. There was something reassuring about seeing that blue optic of hers again, and he was glad to have her here.

"It's regrettable that you won't accept our offer, but understandable." Gates crossed her arms, something that seemed to be a favorite pose of hers. "We've decided to drop you off on Harmony when we get the chance. You'll be treated well, I assure you—but we can't put you back in IMC space."

He nodded, secretly relieved; with what he'd learned of the IMC, he wasn't keen on going anywhere near one of their occupied planets anytime soon.

She turned away from him, and set her gaze upon KT. "Titan, you're going to be decommissioned until further notice. Understood?"

"Affirmative."

Tobias was taken aback in surprise. He heard KT agree, though he sensed the dejection in her tone as she did so. "Wait, she's being decommissioned?"

Gates returned her attention to him. "Afraid so, she doesn't have a Pilot anymore. See, we rarely have this problem; most of the time, it's Titans that get destroyed and humans are issued a new one. A new Titan to bond with, form connections with. As humans, we're able to do that. But it's a bit more difficult for the AI."

She gestured at KT who was tracking the captain's movements with her optic. "A Pilot and a Titan have a certain bond; when you're piloting a Titan, it's not you and them; it's a feeling of oneness. Their AI's are produced with that idea in mind, but take away one of the halves and what happens? You get complications, side effects ranging anywhere from emotional instability to potential fragmentation of the mind itself." She shook her head. "We can't risk sending a Titan into battle without a pilot, she'd be too easily destroyed, a waste of a good chassis. And we can't really link her up to a new Pilot, the odds of her forging a real connection with anyone else are slim to none."

She sighed regretfully. "So the only option left is to scrub the AI's memory, completely wipe the core. Keeps us from having to waste any resources creating a new AI, and we can link her up with a Pilot without any accidents."

Tobias looked up to KT, standing above them and no longer looking at anyone, refusing to allow them to see how this news of her fate was affecting her. Even now, she was ready to follow orders despite how much it pained her to do so.

He thought back to how she mourned over her Pilot, how she'd spared his life back on that frozen world when she could have easily killed him. He'd partially saved her just as a means to an end; they'd helped each other survive, but with that conversation in the garage ... it had become more than that.

He realized that he didn't just think of her as hardware like he once would have. He remembered all the times he'd regarded Jospert with disbelief and laughter when the latter compared Titans to people in how they thought and acted ... but now, he wasn't so sure. KT had gone out of her way to save him not once, but twice, she'd expressed her insecurities to him—and now she was agreeing to something she very obviously did not want to do, all for the good of others.

_Something she did not want to do ... for the good of others._

She'd asked him to put his trust in her, and he had with fortunate results. In turn, she'd placed her trust in him, but it was yet to be seen if it would be as well rewarded.

If she was going to live, she needed to bond with a Pilot, someone she could feel a real connection with. And there was only one living person who'd gone through the same ordeal that she had.

Gates started issuing orders to Dimitri. "I want you to take her over to engineering, see how soon they can work in a total wipe of her memory banks—"

"What about me?"

Gates stopped talking and spun to face him. Behind her, he could see surprise on Dimitri's features.

"What about you?"

If he went through with this, he'd be throwing away his chance to get out of this war. He certainly didn't want to do this ... but KT had shown him that it was often the hard choice that was the right one.

"I'll join the Militia like you wanted ... but only if KT is my Titan."

"I don't think you're in much of a position to be making demands," she retorted. "What makes you think the link would even take?"

"You said that Titans need to forge a connection with their pilot, someone they can properly bond with." He took a breath, nervous to voice his argument. "We both lived through that skirmish, we were both lone survivors of our teams. We both lost friends ... we may have been failures, but we were failures _together._ And it was because of that failure that we survived through each other, and that we're even here at all."

He looked up at the Titan. "So, I'm proud to have failed. It's because of her that I'm alive, and I'd like to return the favor."

KT was looking back at him, frozen in place and silent. She seemed to be completely at a loss for his idea.

Gates' reaction remained hidden behind her helmet, masking any hints as to what she thought of his suggestion.

Finally, she broke her silence. "Well, it would certainly be a far more efficient use of resources. There wouldn't be a need to assign an unused Titan to you, we don't have to wipe the AI's mind, and we get a Pilot out of the deal." She became quiet again, contemplating the choices before her as he stood there waiting for her verdict.

Eventually, she placed a hand against the side of her helmet much like one would mimic when experiencing a headache. "I'll work on setting you two up with a link-session to see if you're as compatible as you think. But in return, I want your guarantee that you'll fight for us even if the neural link is rejected. Deal?"

That hadn't been part of the proposal, and he set his mouth in a thin line. But it only took one glance at KT who was still utterly astounded that he'd do this for her to solidify his feelings on the matter.

"Deal."

"Well, I guess your request is approved. Now get out of here before I change my mind." Gates mirrored his action and looked up at the Ion. "Titan, if you're not going to be decommissioned, I want you to report to engineering and get your chassis fixed."

Both nodded, and set off towards engineering. He couldn't help but wonder what exactly he'd gotten himself into with this endeavor of his.

However this turned out, he had a feeling that there'd be a lot in store for the two of them in the future.


	5. Commitment

The noise of the hangar might as well have been silent for all the attention given to it by Tobias. He'd been sitting and staring at the people and Titans as they bustled throughout the frigate for nearly two hours now, waiting for KT's but his mind was elsewhere.

He kept replaying that ultimatum in his mind, mentally distancing himself from his past iteration until it almost felt like someone else entirely, a stranger wearing his clothing.

_So, I'm proud to have failed. It's because of her that I'm alive, and I'd like to return the favor._

With that sentence, he might have just signed away any hope for asylum he had left. He could have simply taken the offer, been dropped off on Harmony and lived out his days there until this war was over. Instead, he'd gone against every instinct he had to stick his neck out for a _Titan_ of all things.

Why? Why did he keep taking so many risks where she was concerned? He didn't run from her when they met, he found a battery and saved her from the snow, and now he'd just given up an escape from the war just to keep her from being decommissioned.

He shut his eyes, sighed, and bowed his head between his legs as he leaned against the cargo crate behind him. Was it shock? The traumatic experience of seeing his squad incinerated by an explosion might have triggered some small bout of insanity within him. He could simply be latching onto her psychologically because she was all he had left.

Or maybe it was her Pilot. Maybe it was the way that the man had embraced him as a friend rather than an enemy. It could have opened his eyes and shown him that there were far more shades of grey than the black and white that he'd been determined to see before that fateful moment.

But—and he feared that this was the likeliest answer—perhaps there was simply a part of himself within him that recognized it was time for a change, as much as he hated to admit it. Groaning, he raised his head up again and was once again back to people-watching.

Six years he'd been fighting for the IMC. Not once had he ever felt like he'd been making a difference—though, truth be told, he hadn't cared. All he'd cared about was—

Fighting past a lump in his throat, a brief memory of the past chose to momentarily reveal itself and drown out all other thoughts ...

* * *

_The roars of military ships above were all too prevalent in the otherwise quiet night. High in the air, they circled the settlement with spotlights and watched over the town._

_They claimed it was for their own safety, and it may have very well been, what with the rising feelings of unrest shared by man amongst the frontier; there were always those who chose to take drastic measures. But for now, it was simply a source of fear for a mother and her young son._

_Peeking through the curtains once again, the woman sighed with a mixture of stress and frustration. She knew that these measures were necessary, but that didn't mean she had to enjoy them. And she knew that he certainly wasn't—_

" _Mom, when are they going to go away?"_

_She gave another sigh, but not one of consternation; this one was full of sympathy for her son's anxiety towards the ships and looming threat of danger._

" _I don't know," she admits, "but you know it's for the best, sweetie. They only have our safety in mind." She wished she could believe those words as easily as she said them._

_He seemed just as unconvinced as she was unenthused to say it. "What are they keeping us safe from?"_

" _Life on the frontier can be dangerous, but it can also be freeing. Now though, the IMC are trying to protect us at the cost of adding a few restrictions." More than a few, but the law was the law; she would abide by it._

_He tilted his head. "So are they right or wrong to protect us?"_

_That was a loaded question. But as he looked into his mother's eyes, she knew he didn't really want an answer, but some sense of comfort and security. She was happy to provide those for him ... but maybe she could teach him something too._

" _The world isn't so easily labeled," she said gently. "And they aren't good or bad; they're just doing their job. And the people who don't like them aren't really good or bad either, they just feel that what they're doing is right."_

" _But if no one's good or bad, how do you know who's right and wrong?" he questioned._

_She took pause, and thought on how best to explain this to a child with no real concept of the world and its issues. Maybe ..._

_Giving a small hum, she smiled and sat on his bed where he lay curled up in his covers. "Can I tell you a story?"_

_He tilted his head curiously, but nodded all the same._

" _Long before we journeyed to the stars, everyone lived on Earth. It's where we first came from, and it has a lot of history behind it. Before technology and all the things we have today like cars, ships, and that cool stuff you play with nowadays, times were much simpler. People fought over land."_

" _Really? But there's so much of it!" he exclaimed. She laughed slightly._

" _Maybe now there is, with so many worlds. But remember, we only had one back then. So people would try to have as much land as possible, and people would go there to live. Oftentimes, when there was enough land and people, they would come together and form a town, or even a kingdom."_

" _What kind of story is this?"_

" _This is the story of one such kingdom, with a castle and its inhabitants. See, the people were very happy with what they had, and their king was happy with his people. And so, there was peace. But that kind of happiness attracts greed, others who would want to steal from them and hurt them. So, they had one warrior to defend them from evil; a knight."_

_He likely had only the barest idea of what a knight was, so she didn't feel surprised when a confused expression came over his face. But she wouldn't tell him if he didn't ask; she'd let him imagine whatever he wanted._

" _Every time someone came to ruin the peace, the knight would fight them off and protect the people. And so the people loved him."_

_Her son's face was full of wonder now, he was eager to hear the rest of the tale. He didn't even notice the ship's engines overhead anymore, thankfully._

" _As time went on however, fewer and fewer dangers came to challenge the kingdom and its people. They entered a new era of peace and enjoyment. They told the knight to leave, and so he left the people that he'd protected so bravely over the years."_

" _What?" He seemed nonplussed. "Why did they tell him to do that? He did so much for them!"_

" _They thought they didn't need him anymore," she explained, "that they were fine without him. And so they enjoyed their peace for a time, celebrating their newfound way of life. But it wasn't long before something else came along; everyone who had ever been fought off by the knight had arrived, now that he was no longer there to protect the people. Together, they began to steal from the kingdom."_

" _Serves them right for throwing out the knight," her son muttered in a satisfied tone._

_She held up a finger. "Not quite. Because just when all hope seemed lost, the knight returned and began to fight harder than he'd ever fought in all his life. Though he was alone, he managed to defeat them at the expense of his own life. He sacrificed himself to save the kingdom, and the people realized what they'd done was wrong. After that, he was remembered as the greatest hero they'd ever known."_

_She pretended to finish, and waited for his reaction. She wasn't disappointed._

" _But that's not fair!" he cried. "They made him leave, but then he came back anyway and died? What kind of story is that? Why did he come back, didn't they deserve it?"_

" _Maybe they did," she agreed, "but that's not the point. The knight didn't have to come back at all, he knew the army was too big for just him; he knew he would die if he returned."_

" _Then why did he?"_

" _Because it was the right thing to do. The people weren't good and they weren't bad, they were both. In life, you'll find that this is true for everyone; no one is completely good or bad. But he knew that letting them perish was wrong, even if they might have deserved it. Before, he protected them because it was his duty. But then he did it because, even if they didn't love him, he loved them. And in years to come, that love and heroism inspired others to stand up to evil just as he had done."_

_He stared at her in awe, finally understanding the message. She chuckled and leaned down to kiss his head. "As you grow up, I just want you to know that it's often the hardest choices which are the right ones. When the time comes for you to make such a choice, I have no doubt that you'll choose well."_

_He nodded with a small smile on his face, happy with her explanation. "Thanks, mom."_

" _You're welcome. Good night, Toby." With that, she left his room and closed the door._

_He wasn't afraid of the ships anymore, even if he didn't really like them here. He took what his mom told him, and applied her wisdom to the situation; maybe they weren't all good or bad, and maybe the people rising up on the frontier weren't all good or bad either. But peace was good, and the IMC wanted peace. That was enough for him._

_He stared up at the ceiling, thinking about the knight. Maybe there wasn't any kingdom for him to save right now, but ... all the same, he wanted to be like that knight. To be brave, and strong ... internally, he made a promise to himself and to his mom._

_He would always do the right thing._

* * *

Absentmindedly, he rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand and saw that it came away wet. Quickly grabbing the collar of his under-shirt, he wiped away any trace of his feelings towards that particular recollection.

He'd promised to always do the right thing, but he certainly hadn't followed through. Years spent hell-bent on getting vengeance was never what he'd intended, though it was definitely what his life had turned into. Using that memory of her and the goal of 'peace' to justify his behavior ... and soon, he simply didn't have enough willpower to break away from it all. He'd fallen into an almost sedentary attitude towards his position in life, taken it for granted that the IMC had to be good because he'd been too afraid and arrogant to ever question his own judgement.

And in one day, KThad changed that.

"What are you doing?"

With a start, he turned around to see the very subject of his thoughts standing over him a few feet to his left, watching him with the blue optic of her Ion chassis which was becoming increasingly familiar to him with every encounter.

"Hey," he responded with obvious surprise in his voice. "I didn't hear you come over- they can't be done that quick, can they?"

"The engineers have a lengthy list of tasks to complete," she explained. "They repaired what was necessary first, and will continue to work on my chassis when they have the opportunity."

He nodded, sensing the logic behind their decision and work process. The Ion followed his gaze to see the expanse of the hangar before them.

"What are you doing out here?" she asked, gesturing to his apparent target of observation.

He shrugged dismissively, hiding his face from her. "I don't know. Thought it might be fun to see how things run around here."

Out of his peripheral vision, he saw the aperture of her optic narrow in disbelief. Thankfully, she did not press the issue.

"Why?"

He cleared his throat. "Why ... what?"

"Don't be coy. You know perfectly well what I meant."

Apparently, today was a day for life-changing revelations and long sighs. Releasing yet another, he simply stared at his hands awkwardly.

"I was out here asking myself the same question that you just asked me."

She contemplated that seriously. "Did you find an answer?"

He furrowed his brow, trying to think of how best to reply as she awaited silently for his response.

"I was taught that it's often the hardest choices which are the right ones. I've been drifting with the IMC for six years, ignoring what I was told and taking the path of least resistance. I've lived for myself and no one else ..." He swallowed hard. "But I think it finally hit me that I'm not worth living for. Not with the choices I've made."

KT was speechless, listening intently to what he said but without any kind of response of her own. He faced her with a sad sort of smile.

"You, on the other hand ... you've forced me to make several hard choices over the last day. And I haven't regretted a single one of them so far. I've lost whatever purpose I may have originally had all those years ago ... but I think you've given me a new one."

The two of them stared at one another in stunned silence for a few moments before she broke it.

"Four, you are the only reason I'm not a frozen, metallic corpse underneath a blanket of snow—the only reason I'm even standing here talking to you, and not waiting to have my data-core wiped. I was forced to place my faith within you initially, but now I do so because I choose to." She paused for a moment, much like he had when he'd racked his brains for what to say.

"Just as you have found a new purpose within me, I have found one within you." It would take time for her to adjust to the notion of having a former enemy as a Pilot ... but she was willing to try.

He opened and closed his mouth several times, never quite able to express just how grateful he was for what she'd said. Finally, the corners of his lips tugged upwards in appreciation. "Well, it's nice to know I've got you as a friend, KT."

She seemed taken aback by that statement, as evidenced by a sudden jerk in her chassis as well as rapid blinking. He raised an eyebrow in concern. "You alright?"

"I'm fine," she quickly assured him, her voice taking on a far softer tone, "I've simply never been called that before." She stood back up and moved to stand next to him.

"Called what?"

"A friend."

The two of them remained there for a while longer, both pondering on the new way each of them saw the other, and what would await them going forward.


	6. Ionic Bond

**_Four's Logbook_ **

_It's been just over a month since KT and I made it off Nedar, and I joined the militia. To say that my pilot training was accelerated is a bit of an understatement—it's been practically nothing but training session after grueling training session. The simulation pods give me headaches, and my muscles are sore in places I didn't even realize I had muscles. Either the Militia's physical program is far more rigorous than I'd ever anticipated, or I suspect some trainers are taking out their anger on the former IMC Pilot. Still—I think it's about to pay off._

_Today's the day._

_Dimitri and Gates finally came through on that link-session. I've been looking forward to this for the last few days since they told me, as hard as it may seem to believe that. But I'm not doing this for the Militia—I'm doing it for KT. She and I have come a long way from when we were first rescued—I think I understand what Jospert meant now. I thought I did back on Nedar, but that was just scraping the surface. She's not just some machine—she's an actual thinking being, complete with her own likes, dislikes, ideas, everything. Talking to her is just like talking to another human, assuming you bother to adapt to the more rigid linguistics of a Titan's speech._

_Once we're linked, I've been told that we'll be transferred to a squad in the SRS Marauder Corps. It's lead by Sarah Briggs, a name I've heard quite a lot about. She was one of the main leaders of the Militia who helped win the battle of Demeter, the other two being Cheng "Bish" Lorck, and the legendary James MacAllan. I lost a few good friends that day ... though I'm sure she did too. If half the stories I've heard about her are true, then I'd rather not find out personally and become the subject of yet another tale._

_That's assuming the link works—which I'm sure it will. I think everything's going to be just fine._

* * *

Tobias walked through the hangar bay towards engineering, his demeanor one of both excitement and nervousness. He'd gambled just about everything on being able to link with KT, and the two of them were about to see whether such a thing was possible.

His old armor had been given back to him, if only to save resources. He wore it now, and couldn't help but feel out of place—the white coloration was definitely going to stand out against the green and brown garb of the militia. He felt torn between wearing it and feeling a nostalgic sense of familiarity or discarding it and allowing himself to feel like part of the team.

Speaking of 'team' ... he noticed three Pilots standing around as he approached his destination, waiting for something. One of them turned towards him, and he was beginning to get a good idea of what they were waiting for.

The Pilot in front, a stockily-built man with bleached hair styled into a quiff, turned to see Tobias approaching and made an audible reaction of disgust. "Oh look, it's another turncoat jackass. Not even gonna have the decency to get rid of those colors, huh?"

Great. This was gonna be fun.

Biting back a retort, he held his pride and stood at attention. "Pilot PFC Four, at your service—"

The man shook his head, his pale green eyes burning holes into Tobias. "Nah, nah, nah. Your IMC rank doesn't mean shit here." He walked up close to Tobias and glared at him, his nostrils flaring and blowing hot breath directly into the Tobias' face. "I can't wait for our first assignment together—who's to say that whitey here won't have a little _accident_ on the field—"

"Cut the shit, McFarlane."

He turned to see an odd pair approaching him. One was a woman, the other was... something else. It looked like a new type of spectre at first; but looking closer, he saw that the body had been heavily modified. Rather than flat feet, the legs ended in curved blades, much like types of prosthetic legs used by runners. Their plating was a crimson red color, with pouches and belts adorning their chest and back. The head turned towards him, and the blue light on the front seemed to blink.

"You said your name is Four, right?"

Though definitely artificial, the voice had a distinctive feminine tone to it. He nodded. She extended a robotic hand towards him.

"I'm Vale. I apologize, but it seems that McFarlane here doesn't realize that without the massive influx of IMC joining our cause, we would have lost this war a long time ago." She turned to glare at the other man, and he scowled before turning away while muttering under his breath.

Now the woman looked at him. She had a buzzed head, her dirty-blonde hair cut down to no more than stubble, and hazel eyes that looked him up and down as though sizing him up. "Tyra Crane. Odd name you've got there, Four."

He shrugged. "That's what I'm told." He glanced at Vale. "You know, I heard rumors about something like this, but I didn't know the Militia was utilizing it."

She nodded. "Simulacrums? Yeah, transferring the mind of a human into a robot is definitely a tricky business, but it's effective. Gives me a sort of black-box function—I can just be restored from a previous backup compiled with a data package that gets beamed out upon the destruction of my body. I tell you though, I definitely miss some of the more ... _primal_ feelings of being human."

Ignoring that last comment, Tyra stepped forward and offered her hand to him. "Welcome to the squad. You're our new number four—hey, you're already fitting in!"

Opting not to comment on the poor joke, he just nodded and looked at the pair of them. "Glad to be a part of it. Who's the commanding officer?"

Vale nodded her head toward him with a slight whirr of machinery. "You're lookin' at her."

He gestured behind her towards the engineering bay. "In that case, ma'am—permission to leave? I have an urgent appointment—"

"Well, of course you do!" she exclaimed, slapping him on the shoulder and dragging him along with her. "That's why we're here, aren't we? To see if our new meat is all bark or if he's got any bite."

"What?"

Tyra waved for McFarlane to follow, and then fell into step alongside them. "Your whole ultimatum thing with Gates—word gets around fast on a ship, and man have you got some balls to pull a stunt like that with her."

His confidence was draining with every second she kept speaking. "Come again?"

"Nobody talks like that to her and gets away with it," she elaborated. "She's the leader of one of the best merc factions in the frontier—you don't get that kind of title without a reputation to uphold, and you did a number on hers with that trick of yours."

He swallowed hard. "I didn't think the 6-4 really counted themselves as mercenaries—"

Vale scoffed. "Just because they don't work for the highest bidder doesn't mean they aren't mercs. Call 'em what you want, killers with a conscience or whatever—but make no mistake, they've earned their prestige."

From behind him, McFarlane leaned in and rather smugly whispered, "That means you're gonna pay for that little show of yours—one way or another."

This was _some_ welcome to a new squad, he could at least say that much.

He had a feeling it was about to get just a bit more interesting, however, as the four of them entered the engineering bay and saw a crowd of people standing there waiting and talking amongst themselves. Once they noticed the quartet's arrival, some of them became silent while others only increased in volume. Near the back of the room, he could see who he was actually here for; KT, and the Ion seemed rather unsettled by all the unwanted attention.

"Told you word gets 'round fast," Tyra muttered with a smirk.

Next to KT, he saw Gates with her arms crossed over her chest. Despite the woman always wearing a helmet, she had the uncanny nature of almost perfectly projecting whatever expression she had on under that mask, and right now he was fairly sure it was the grin of a wolf as the sheep entered its den.

"Usually link-sessions are private affairs," she called out to him, "but since you seemed so confident in your ability, I decided that we might as well show the others how a _proper_ Pilot links with a Titan." She suddenly brought a hand to her chin in a gesture of mock-thoughtfulness. "You _have_ linked with a Titan before ... haven't you?"

He didn't answer.

She shrugged. "Oh, well—I got you a link-session, you fight for us no matter the outcome. That was the deal—and make no mistake, I won't be the kind and understanding type if you try to back out when this doesn't go your way—"

 _"If_ this doesn't go my way," he countered, his eyes narrowing.

A hush fell over the congregation, and Vale and Tyra took a few noticeable steps away from him. Gates stiffened at his comeback, but recovered quickly. "Well, we'll just see about that, won't we? Let's get this show on the road."

KT's optic was staring at him with a completely open aperture, analogous to someone's eyes widening into dinner plates. He gave a single reassuring nod, and then walked forward to join her at the back of the room.

"Hey. How's it going?"

"It could be better," she hissed back at him. "I'd recommend not angering the Captain, but you seem determined to do exactly that. She's a highly decorated soldier—"

"Yeah, so I've been told," he acknowledged, motioning for her to quiet down. "Give me a minute."

She tilted her optic casing quizzically as he stepped away and approached Gates. The woman waited there patiently, and he thought about all the things he could say—many of which could get him in even bigger trouble, but he wasn't exactly focusing on that at the moment. She was setting them up for failure, and he wanted nothing more than to spit in her face for it. He took a deep breath.

"I need your help."

There was a visible jerk in her gaze as she performed a double take, obviously having not expected that. "You want _my_ help? And why would—"

"I told you I'd fight for you," he whispered. "I meant that—regardless of what happens, I will. But if this link doesn't work, then KT's core gets wiped. You don't like me, and that's fine—but this isn't about me, it's about _her._ I just want to keep that from happening."

She was silent for a few moments, and for a second he thought she was going to flat-out refuse him. But finally, she gave a quiet nod of agreement, and he allowed himself to breathe in relief.

Gates guided him over to KT and gestured for the Titan to open her hatch. "The most important thing in a neural link between Pilot and Titan is harmony. On the battlefield, you'll act as an extension of one another rather than as separate entities. Trust is an essential component—without it, there is no bond."

Sighing softly as the hydraulic seals released their grip, the cockpit door on her torso opened. Tobias looked at the seat and controls which awaited him, and felt a trill of anticipation course through him. He'd done all the simulations—but this was the real thing, and he wasn't sure if he was ready.

KT kneeled down and sat unmoving. "Awaiting your entry, Pilot."

Okay, _now_ he was ready.

Gripping the edges of the frame, he lifted himself in and spun around to seat himself properly. Outside, he saw everyone looking on in apprehension—he was sure some of them were taking bets on whether or not he succeeded—

"Don't focus on them," Gates ordered, shaking him out of his thoughts. "They're not important—all that matters right now is you and your Titan."

**_Your_ ** _Titan._

He nodded, gave a shaky exhalation, and closed his eyes to steady his nerves. Satisfied with his performance, Gates banged twice on the side and KT closed the hatch. It was pitch black for a moment before the lights of the monitors and various devices within lit up and cast differing glows of blue, red, and green illumination throughout the cabin.

Through the internal speakers, he heard Gates as she continued to issue instructions, _"Relax and block out any distractions. Don't think of yourself as being inside a Titan—you_ ** _are_** _the Titan. Let her arm become_ ** _your_** _arm—let her legs become_ ** _your_** _legs."_

He did as she said, taking deep, steady breaths and allowing himself to picture KT's arms— _his_ arms—stretching forward and reaching towards Gates.

KT noticed his state. _"On your word, Pilot."_

He gave it one more moment of pause, then nodded. "I'm ready."

_"Initiating neural-link ..."_

Tobias waited, but didn't feel anything. "KT? Is it—"

A sudden flare of blinding pain shot through his skull, rendering him incapable of sight for a moment as his brain tried desperately to process the trauma through his shock. Behind his eyes, he felt something akin to a firecracker exploding as random images began to play through his mind—memories of that fateful night on Nedar.

_A rifleman screaming as a 40mm projectile tore through his lower body like it was paper—_

_The concussive force of the grenade blasting him backwards into the snow where he blacked out—_

_The dropship full of his team exploding as the Militia Titan detonated its nuclear core—_

But not all of the images were ones he recognized. Others began to play, scenes that he had no recollection of ever seeing before ...

_An alarm blaring as enemy dropships began to invade the skies, desperately searching for her Pilot—_

_Allowing her Pilot to disembark to help cover the squads of riflemen as they were cut down by IMC infantry—_

_Fighting off a Titan and turning only to see an enemy Pilot shooting him. Crying out in anguish as she watched him crumple lifelessly into the snow—_

_"Shut it down! Titan, shut it down!"_

Mercifully, the pain ceased and he felt his muscles turn to jelly as he slid down in his seat. After a moment, the hatch opened and he became vaguely aware of the Captain leaning in. "Four?! Four, are you alright?"

He gurgled incomprehensibly for a moment before regaining control of his vocal cords. "Yep ... I'll just be a minute ..."

Outside, he could hear the murmurs of the gathered Pilots and grunts, looking on to see what exactly had happened. She reached in and lifted his arm onto her shoulder as she began to help ease him out of the cockpit. "I'm sorry, Four—but I told you, a Titan's mind just isn't meant for multiple links—"

"No," he suddenly coughed, and jerked away from her. "Give me one more shot! I know I can do this, I could feel it—"

She hurried to brace him as he began to lean too much to one side. "Absolutely not, do you know how erratic your vitals were just now? If you'd stayed in there any longer, you could have been put into cardiac arrest—"

"One more chance," he begged, staring into the expressionless glass of her visor. "I think I know what went wrong, please—for her."

Gates' fists clenched tightly for a moment, looking around at the crowd which awaited to see just what she'd do. Did she stick to her guns and show the rookie who was boss, or did she let her reputation get tarnished just a bit more?

She sighed angrily. _"One more chance._ That's it, Four."

He nodded gratefully. "Thank you."

She gestured back at KT, and he wasted no time in jumping back into the seat while KT closed the hatch.

He sat back, sighing and looking around absentmindedly. "Those memories I saw ... those were yours, right?"

_"Yes."_

There was a distinct hush in her tone that he hadn't heard since he'd first met her—and now understood why. "I saw myself as _you_ saw me—an enemy ... a monster."

 _"I'm sorry,"_ she whispered back to him.

He shook his head slowly. "No, _I'm_ sorry. I felt how it feels to have a Pilot- and to lose one. How being only one half of a two-sided bond feels. I should have expected that the link would fail because of me—"

_"The link did not fail because of how I saw you."_

He raised an eyebrow. "How can that not be it? I'm the enemy, the one who took your Pilot away—"

_"No. You are my friend, the one who helped me survive on Nedar and risked his already tenuous position with the Militia to keep me from being decommissioned. The link failed ... because of how I see you_ **_now."_ **

"... What?"

There was a long pause. _"You have been kind to me, Four. We have grown closer as a team, and ... I have come to admire and respect you."_ She cut out momentarily as she gathered the courage to speak her next words.

_"I do not wish to lose another Pilot."_

It clicked in his head at last—she wasn't rejecting the link due to _hating_ him, it was due to her _fondness_ of him. He wished he was able to simply think of the right words to say in response, but nothing came to mind. In the end, he sighed in resignation and opted to simply speak from the heart.

"KT ... I know that this wasn't what either of us envisioned for ourselves. But whatever this is, this strange circumstance we find ourselves in—it feels _right._ We can't focus on our past—the only way this works is if we trust each other enough to have a _future."_

She said nothing for a few seconds, contemplating his words and their meaning. Finally, she said with some determination, _"I understand. Ready to re-attempt neural-link on your word."_

He gave a small smile as he prepared for what was to come, and sat back snugly in the seat. "Let's do this."

_"Initiating neural-link ..."_

The pain came again, but this time he was ready for it, and it was far more bearable than it had been before. Once more, random images hijacked his mind—but they were of different memories.

_She sees the Pilot next to her freezing as his suit's functions fail due to the cold. Changing her pace to match his, she protects him from the biting wind—_

_He repairs the communications array but is suddenly thrown off the roof. She darts forward to catch him, determined to save his life for reasons unknown to her—_

_As she confesses her self-doubt and fears, he comforts her and reassures her like no one has before—_

_Though she is lined up for decommission, he stands against the Captain and fights to save her life—_

_He calls her a friend ... and she finds that she considers him a friend too._

With a choking gasp, he heaved deeply and struggled to correct his breathing as well as lower his racing heart rate. But the pain had disappeared, replaced instead with a feeling as though he'd had an emptiness in his mind that he hadn't even known was there—and it was no longer empty.

_"Neural-link established."_

In front of him, the ocular systems activated and he was able to look at Gates and the rest of the crowd as they stared on in shock at what had just happened. Slowly, he tested his movement and watched as two metal arms matched his own and extended themselves out in front. He looked at them in wonder and amazement, hardly believing that it had worked despite the obvious proof before him.

A dull banging could be heard on the exterior of the chassis, and Gates' voice called out, _"Four? You coming out of there, or what?"_

Opening up the hatch, the crowd finally broke their stunned silence and entered into a raucous of chaos and random noise. But pleasantly, it sounded like some of it was actually _positive._ Maybe some of the people here were willing to give the former IMC a chance after all. He saw his squad among them, Vale and Tyra flashing him thumbs up, and even McFarlane giving him a begrudging wave of acknowledgement.

Gates extended a hand to help him out, one which he accepted gratefully. "Can't believe that actually worked. Looks like she's your Titan after all."

"Sure seems like it," he agreed, and turned back to grin at KT. "Wouldn't have chosen any other."

"Of course, that means some congratulations are in order," she continued, and shook his hand firmly. When he pulled it away, he saw a small medallion placed within it—one that had a minimalistic emblem of a Titan emblazoned upon it.

His final certification.

"Welcome to the Militia, Pilot." 


	7. Broadsword

**_Four's Logbook_ **

_I've got the training. I've got the Titan. Now comes the final test—whether or not I've got the loyalty._

_Despite having been rather neutral towards me since the link-session, I feel like my squad and Gates are still nervous about me, that they took one too many chances on an IMC deserter. I've overheard McFarlane discussing me with Tyra, worried that I'm just going to stab everyone in the back once I've got the opportunity._

_They're wrong._

_I gave Gates my word that I'd fight for the Militia, and I intend to follow through. But it goes deeper than that—she and Dimitri showed me exactly what the Interstellar Manufacturing Corporation really is; another company looking to make a profit, and they don't really care in regards to how they go about doing it. Those experiments they held, all those testing grounds—many of them were on civilians. Innocents._

_Not every enemy rifleman or Pilot knows about that, I know. Many of them are probably just like me—just like how I was. But so long as they're fighting for the IMC, they're only ensuring that the cycle of tragedy and war continues._

_My job is to stop that cycle. I wish there was another way, but I can't see one; either one side wins, or this conflict keeps raging on until all of us are dead._

_I've got my first assignment as part of the infantry detail for an upcoming assault on the planet Tyche. The Militia has been carrying out Operation: Broadsword for the better part of two years now—wiping out IMC research facilities one by one, taking whatever data they can salvage from the sites, and weakening their grip on the frontier. This will be the first time KT and I will be in combat together—real combat, not just simulations._

_I'm sure the others are wondering how I'll perform. Whether I'll do my best to revert the damage I've inadvertently caused over the years, or whether I'll crawl back to the IMC at the first opening I get._

_The others hope I don't waste this chance they've given me. I don't think they realize that I'm hoping for the same thing.  
  
_

* * *

**  
** _"All squads report to their stations. All squads report to their stations. This is not a test."_

Pilots and Riflemen scurried about the hangar of the frigate as the loudspeaker read out their orders. In the chaos, no one took notice of the lone Pilot in white armor amongst a sea of mottled green and brown.

Tobias jogged through the crowds, attempting to push through and make it to his shuttle on time. At his side, he held his helmet—cleaned for the most part, but still sporting a blackened scorch mark on the right side from the explosion of Shears' grenade on Nedar.

He'd scrubbed at it for hours, vigorously attempting to remove the dark stain contrasted against the white of the helmet. Eventually, he'd just had to accept that the burn was there to stay whether he liked it or not—

"Move aside, comin' through! Shove off already!"

He recognized that voice and hastily stepped aside as Gates waded through the crowd of soldiers and almost ran headfirst into him. Trailing behind her were three men, all clad in the signature grey and white armor of the 6-4. He recognized Dimitri next to the Captain, but the other two were a mystery to him—one was slightly shorter than Dimitri while the other easily towered over them all; he had to be over six and a half feet in his armor.

"Four!"

He turned to see that the Captain had noticed him and was walking over. The other three watched her for a moment before Dimitri flashed Tobias a quick grin in recognition, then turned to the other two and ordered, "Keep moving, you two! We've got a schedule to maintain, and we don't want to keep the IMC waiting!"

As they wandered off, Gates extended her hand to Tobias in greeting. He obliged, clasping hers warmly in his own. "Captain, it's good to see you."

"Likewise," she said, eyeing him up and down. "Haven't seen you since the link-session." She gestured behind her at the retreating backs of her comrades. "That's the rest of the 6-4. You already know Dimitri—I'll have to introduce you to Jax and Bear sometime."

"Bear certainly has a fitting name," he remarked dryly, thinking back to the man's massive stature.

Gates chuckled. "Yeah, he gets that a lot." She looked around at the blur of motion around them as other squads moved towards their objectives. "This your first assignment?"

"For the Militia at least, yes."

She gave him a small nod. "You know, it's funny—when I first met you, I thought you were just trying to save your own skin."

He shrugged nonchalantly. "It was a reasonable assessment."

She ignored him. "Yet, here you are; risking your life for a cause you don't believe in with people you've spent the last several years trying to kill."

The way she phrased it was unsettling him a bit. He shuffled his feet a bit, unsure of how to react. "What's your point?"

"Either you're one of the biggest fools on the frontier ..." she trailed off, stepping closer to him all the while. Lifting one hand up, she extended a finger and placed it squarely on his chest. "... or you've got a better heart than most I've met."

The two of them stood there alone in the crowd, neither moving; she waited for him to respond, and he had no idea what to say.

Was this the same woman who'd taken him from Nedar? The one whose partner threatened to throw him out an airlock and the one who openly mocked and attempted to humiliate him for challenging her authority? Trying to reconcile the compliment she'd just given him along with her previous behavior was a task and a half.

Lifting his own hand up to hers, he gingerly removed her hand from his chest and cleared his throat. "Well, uh ... statistically speaking, it's likely the former."

She laughed at that—the first genuine laugh he'd hear from her—and took a few steps backwards. "Why not both?" Turning around, she began to jog towards the rest of the 6-4 and called back, "See you on the ground, Four!"

He stood there absentmindedly for a moment, halfway raising his arm to wave goodbye and then lowering it again. Shaking his head from the toll inflicted upon his mind from trying to process the past minute, he turned back towards his objective and ran along with the others to his mission assignment.

He spotted a familiar looking group of Pilots standing amongst a few riflemen, one of which was a Simulacrum. He made his way over to them and waved to indicate his presence. Tyra noticed and pointed him out to Vale.

"Ah, here he is—our newest member," she called loudly as he approached. "Thought for a moment you'd ditched."

He shook his head and extended his hand to grasp hers in a firm shake. "Wouldn't have missed this for the world."

"That's the kind of spirit we like to see around here!" she chortled enthusiastically. Something on her left shoulder caught his eye—a patch with an insignia of skull impaled on a knife. A heart was emblazoned on the skull's forehead. Looking to Tyra and McFarlane, he noticed them wearing the same patch over their armor. Vale followed his gaze and realized what he was staring at.

"Oh, that reminds me—here," she said, tossing him something from one of her belt's pouches. Catching it, he looked to see that she'd given him one as well. It seemed like it was meant to be worn directly on his armor's pauldron.

"Thanks—but what does it mean?"

"Officially, our squad-designation is Foxtrot-Three," she explained whilst clapping a hand on his back and leading him into the drop-bay of the ship. "But other squads around here have taken to calling us 'the Heartless'. Figured we might as well roll with the nickname if we're gonna have it."

"Why 'heartless'?"

"Don't ask."

He was one-hundred percent going to ask later.

Glanced around the interior of the ship, he recognized it as a Crow, the Militia's standard model of choice for inter-atmosphere infantry transport. Not as nice as the Goblin class he'd become accustomed to with the IMC, but still more than functional for their purposes.

"Keep on moving, shiny," McFarlane sneered. Tobias cocked his head to one side, unsure of what he was referring to.

"Ah, forgot about that—just a tradition," Tyra explained. "Rookies jump last, so you're closest to the pilot."

"Why? Is it safer?" he asked in confusion.

"Not exactly—we'll be closer to the ramp which means that, assuming things go wrong, we get to jump out first." She shrugged with a smirk before pulling her helmet over her head. "Sorry, Four."

He sighed in resignation. "That sounds like my kinda luck, alright."

Moving to the back of the drop-bay, he watched as the pilot checked comms with other squads. "Foxtrot-Three to Foxtrot-Seven; Han, old buddy, you read me?"

_"Loud and clear, Kip. What's up?"_

"I've finished the pre-flight inspection, I'm not picking up any discrepancies."

_"Copy that. Wait for orders from hangar control."_

Tobias glanced around the drop-bay at the occupants within; there were the Pilots he'd come to know as his squad-mates, and then there were the riflemen, more commonly nicknamed 'grunts' by the more elitist Pilots who saw them as no more than fodder. Having been a rifleman himself, he had more respect than disdain for the ground-limited soldiers.

"What are their names?" he muttered to Vale from behind her, motioning toward them—he wanted to know who he was fighting with. She shook her head.

"Bad question," she replied in a hushed tone. "Out here on the frontier, I've found it's best not to get to know others. Keeps you from forming too many attachments. Keeps you sane when you lose them."

"I think I'm starting to understand why you guys are called the Heartless," he grumbled. Feeling the need to hear a familiar voice, he tuned out the rabble and tapped into his neural link. It was a few seconds before he received a response.

_< ... Pilot? >_

"Hey, KT," he murmured, trying to avoid being heard by the other occupants. "How are things on your end?"

 _<_ _My pod's hull integrity has been verified. I am cleared for titanfall on your command. >_

"You know that's not what I meant."

She hesitated with her reply. _< I am apprehensive concerning our first time acting as a unit in live combat ... yet eager to see the results. >_

He nodded absentmindedly. "I know what you mean."

_< You share these concerns? >_

"I wouldn't really call them concerns," he said thoughtfully. "Sure, I'm nervous—I'd be inhuman if I wasn't. But like you told me, this whole bond between us relies on trust in the other to take care of us—and I know you've got my back." He finished with a smirk, hoping to instill more confidence in her than he actually felt.

_< Protocol three: protect the Pilot. >_

"That's right. I'll see you on the ground, KT."

_< Affirmative. >_

He felt her cut the connection, and he returned his attention to the bay door which began to swing upward from its ramp function into a closed position.

_"All dropships, prepare to exit the hangar immediately following the jump!_

Tobias could hear the voice of hangar control coming through the pilot's console. Like the other ships in the hangar, their door sealed shut and the Crow began to lift several meters off the ground in preparation for exiting the shields. The pilot flipped a few switches while the rest of them stood in the drop bay, listening.

_"Initiating jump in five ... four ... three ... two ..."_

Immediately, the stars outside the shields became blurred lines stretched back past the edge of the hangar doors. Feeling a jerk in the ship's movement, he looked around to see most of the group holding grips in the roof of the dropship—all except for Vale, who it seemed took her immortality a bit too much for granted. Considering how fond he was of his own body, he opted to hold onto the handles above. Only a few more seconds, and they'd exit warp-space—

Another jolt signaled the cessation of momentum, and the voice came back on the comms. _"All dropships, you are cleared for takeoff! Go, go, go!"_

The pilot pushed a lever forward, and the ship rocketed out of the hangar before making a wide arc and setting its sights on Tyche. It seemed as though the opening attack had been coordinated perfectly—

_"—everywhere! I repeat, we've got IMC bogeys everywhere! No, look out! Contact—"_

An explosion was heard over the comms before it swapped to radio static. As their view of Tyche widened and the nearer conflict became more apparent, Tobias was shocked to see fighters zipping through the void around the frigate and explosions occasionally blossoming against its shields.

"What the hell? How did they respond this fast?" Vale yelled to the pilot. They scrambled around, trying to maneuver the craft.

"It looks like they were waiting for us! Our op-center's communications must have been compromised—dammit!" Indeed, it looked like even more IMC ships were rising from the atmosphere of the blue planet below.

As Tobias looked out the viewports of the dropship, he couldn't help but notice the inversion of the situation. Those IMC ships had once been allies; yet here he was, flying in a tin-can of a Militia ship while his former comrades took potshots at them.

The Crow took a hard right to avoid a missile, and he was glad to be holding onto something. He could hear the pilot talking over the comms up front, "This is Foxtrot-Three! We've got multiple hostiles engaging us, I can't get them off our—"

A loud boom came from the right side of the ship, on the wing. "Foxtrot-Three is hit! Mayday, mayday, Foxtrot-Three is hit! We're going down!"

The dropship began to plummet further into the atmosphere below, unable to maintain its altitude any longer. He couldn't believe it—his first real assignment for the Militia, and he was going to die on the first day.

Another object struck the dropship and sent them spinning rapidly as it continued to fall. Now Tobias could hear the whistling of the air screaming alongside the hull of the Crow from multiple breaches in its structure.

"I can't hold her! Bail, bail!" the pilot shouted back to them over the noise. They grabbed an emergency release and yanked on it, immediately allowing the drop-bay door to fly open.

"What's a life on the frontier without a bit of excitement, huh?" Tyra cackled in front of Tobias. He always appreciated a good sense of humor, but he felt rather strongly that this was absolutely not the time to be making wisecracks.

Vale, Tyra, McFarlane, and the riflemen shakily ran forward to leap out as he followed close behind. Only the three Pilots made it out before a loud wrenching noise manifested in conjunction with an abrupt downward angle of the ship's nose. One of the soldiers made it out while two fell backwards behind Tobias and the other clung desperately to a flimsy handhold.

Tobias stood at the edge of the bay, looking back on the rifleman as he struggled to pull himself back up. He felt a momentary hesitation to act, a remnant of who he used to be—but his new moral perspective as influenced by KT won out.

"Hang on!" With the ground approaching fast, he reached over and shoved the man nearest out of the ship, watching as he successfully cleared the tail of the Crow. Two more to go. Leaping down to where they struggled to climb back out, he outstretched his hand and grabbed one of their own. He groaned in exertion as he pulled them up and towards the wall where they hastily began to climb towards the exit. As he began to lift the other one up as well, he thought to himself, _I can't believe this is actually going to work. My luck never goes this well._

And then the ship tore itself in two.

There was no time to react, and nothing to process other than the sound of ripping metal and one of the rifleman's screams as he was sucked out into the open air. He found himself trapped, pinned against the pilot's seat as the centripetal force of their half of the ship was too much for him to overcome.

There were two terrifying seconds for him to wonder exactly how painful dying like this would be before something hard slammed into him, and everything went black.


	8. Turncoat

Being able to feel every inch of his bruised and battered body again was not the best way to wake up. Then again, the very fact that he could even feel _anything_ was a good indicator that he was alive, so he'd stow his complaints for now.

Tobias slowly glanced around the interior of the crashed ship, trying to get his bearings. This wasn't his first crash landing—but for the pilot and rifleman beside him whose bodies were bent at crooked angles, this had definitely been their last.

He stared at the rifleman in particular, remembering the last few heart-stopping moments before the crash as he'd tried to help them escape—only to see them lying dead before him in a shockingly brutal reality. It was almost surreal—and he couldn't help but make a comparison to the fate of Jospert and the other survivors of Nedar.

What good was he as a protector if he couldn't save anyone?

Suppressing his disturbing memories and thoughts for the time being, he analyzed the situation to look for an escape route. He was stuck in the front half of the ship. The floor had been bent upwards enough from the impact to where it had reconnected with the roof and snuffed out any chance of escape that way. He supposed that the others must have been more fortunate when jumping out, though he was certainly lucky to have not ended up like the other two that had been trapped in here as well.

He swapped his gaze to the viewport, its glass cracked and ready to break from the crash. Through it, he could see that the ship was resting near the side of a large butte, and a rocky clearing surrounded it before giving way to woodland.

Standing up from the ground, he could feel the newly-formed cuts and bruises on his legs crying out from the strain. Ignoring the pain for now, he walked over to the window. He tried slamming it a few times to see how weak it was. It was definitely strong enough to keep him in here if he only used his fists, but a bit more force might shatter it...

Taking a few steps backwards, he gave himself a moment to align his trajectory. When he was sure he had the path right, he ran at the viewport and ignited his thrusters.

_WHAM._

It propelled him into the glass with a painful slam—but his efforts weren't in vain, as he heard it give a bit. He gingerly stepped back and rubbed his shoulder, now aching from the impact. It didn't matter—he'd have to keep doing that if he wanted to escape.

He gave it another try. It began to bend outwards a bit, but not enough to budge entirely. He grunted in exertion as the right side of his torso continued to take a beating.

"... Help ..."

He immediately was on alert as he heard the voice through one of the many cracks in the dropship. It definitely hadn't come from inside, so he looked out to see if he could spot the source. There on the ground several meters from the ship was the other rifleman who'd been sucked out when the ship ripped in half. They were resting against a large rock and holding their right leg tightly. From a quick once-over, it appeared to be broken.

"Hey!"

The man looked around for whoever was talking, and Tobias rapped on the glass to get his attention. He watched as the soldier's attention zeroed in on him. "P-Pilot?"

"That's right," he said in relief. "Listen—once I get out of here, I can help you. Just hang tight."

He watched the rifleman relax. "Oh, thank god."

Tobias gave it another slam with the thrusters. Not broken yet. "Ugg ... where are the others?"

"I heard them on the comms, they landed a few clicks east of here. I got caught last second, and my chute opened late... landed badly here. One of the Pilots and my squad-mate are coming back for us while the other three find somewhere to rendezvous."

Tobias nodded. That made sense. "Alright, well give me a few more tries here—"

_Boom._

_Boom._

He froze, making sure he wasn't hearing things. "Did you feel that?"

"Yeah—what was that?"

_Shit._

"Just hang on!" He sped up, trying to accelerate the process. He thrusted.

_WHAM._

A little bit more.

He thrusted.

_WHAM._

A little bit—

**_Boom_ ** _._

Finally, the source of the noise was revealed. A Titan entered into view from out of the woodland, a Stryder class—one of the original three classes. He knew that the IMC was using every last resource at their disposal, including the older models; soon though, they'd likely be phased out entirely for the six newer variants that had become standard.

The Stryder made its way over to the soldier on the ground who looked up in fear. Tobias continued desperately in his attempt to smash through the viewport—to no avail.

"Well, what do we have here?"

He heard the Pilot inside the Stryder talking through the external speakers to the rifleman. The man began to drag himself along the ground, hopelessly trying to put distance between himself and the enemy Titan.

_God damn it, break already—_

"N-no, please!"

With one final thrust, he forced the glass to shatter and flew through the opening. Tumbling onto the ground, he looked up just in time to see the Titan raise its foot over the man in preparation to bring it down.

_"Wait!"_

The Titan turned towards him in surprise, its foot still hovering over the soldier. "Where'd you come from? I didn't know we had other Pilots in this sector."

The Pilot in the Titan thought Tobias was IMC due to his armor. He still had the element of surprise, but not for long. Had to think fast. "Some of us were relocated to help combat the enemy dropships, like this one. I took this grunt as a prisoner and was searching through his ship for any useful data."

Time to see if they took the bait. Hesitantly lowering its foot back to the ground, the Titan gestured to the crash. "Find anything?"

"Nothing in that ship is salvageable," he replied, waving his hand dismissively. "That's why I need him—to see if he knows anything useful. But I can't exactly do that if you crush him."

"Finish what you need to, and get rid of them," the Titan growled. "Security's getting a bit thin a few klicks north of here—they want us to move back and protect the data-center."

 _Data-center._ Filing that information for later, Tobias nodded. If he didn't keep stalling for time, there wouldn't _be_ a later. "Understood."

He walked over to the rifleman as the Titan looked around for signs of opposition. Kneeling beside the soldier, he drew his data-knife from its sheath and held it up to the man's face while speaking loudly, "Look, pal—you're not coming out of this one alive. But you can make your last moments far less painful if you give me some meaningful info to take back to command. Otherwise ..." He softly dragged the blade up the man's chest plate. "This conversation could be ... unpleasant."

The soldier turned pale in fear, confused at Tobias' sudden change in allegiance—but then he saw the Pilot raise a finger to the mouthpiece of his helmet in the universal sign for, _Be_ _quiet_. Sure that the Titan's attention was no longer on him, Tobias began to reach towards his belt.

 _"When shit hits the fan, start crawling away and hide,"_ he whispered as his fingers found what he'd been looking for. Now understanding the plan, the rifleman nodded.

"This is a waste of time. Let's get it over with already—"

In one quick movement, Tobias threw the arc grenade at the Titan's feet. It exploded in a crackle of blue electricity, stunning its victim's ocular systems momentarily.

"Agh—what the hell?!"

Risking it, he took the chance to run forward and leap onto the hull of the Stryder. Reaching for his sidearm, he only had enough time to tear off the battery casing's panel and let a few shots off into the hull before the Titan extended its arm and wrapped its hand around him, pulling him off. It held him in front of the main body of the chassis as he kicked and struggled, its optics staring almost angrily into him.

"I thought something about this seemed off. What are you, a spy?" He examined Tobias a bit closer. "Nah, you don't seem like a spy ... you're just a deserter, aren't you?"

_Boom._

Tobias said nothing, simply opting to writhe as he desperately tried to wriggle free in a vain effort to escape. The Stryder tilted its chassis slightly, as though amused.

"Why don't I show you how we treat traitors out here on the frontier?"

**_Boom_ ** _._

Just as the Titan's grip began to squeeze, another Titan emerged from behind and slammed into the Stryder. Tobias fell to the ground as it let go of him and turned to face the new threat. Clutching his chest, he used his thrusters to boost himself out of harm's way from the legs of each before looking at the new arrival.

"Come on!" the newcomer taunted, the unmistakable voice of McFarlane egging the Stryder on. He piloted an Atlas, and one that had been upgraded to match modern build-standards at that—it was a dark grey in color with yellow-green accents of brushed metal over its chassis. Beside him was the rifleman Tobias had shoved out of the Crow before it crashed.

As the two Titans engaged one another, the soldier ran to Tobias. "You alright, Pilot? We didn't think that anyone could have survived that crash—"

Tobias watched the fight behind him carefully and saw the Stryder deflect a blast from McFarlane's 40mm cannon. Pushing the man aside, he yelled, "Look out—!"

The shell landed just a meter in front of them, the concussive force blowing him backwards and into the hull of the ship, where he slumped to the ground against the metal. He couldn't see the rifleman through his bleary vision, but he could see McFarlane and the Stryder forgoing weapons to clash against each other in an all-out brawl.

"That all you got?" He heard McFarlane snarling at the Stryder as they continued to dish out blows to one another. The Atlas certainly had the technological advantage, and should come out ahead—

As though he had jinxed it, the Stryder suddenly boosted forward and knocked McFarlane back. Now he was on the defensive as the Stryder kept pressing forward and the Atlas kept losing ground. Tobias reached out a hand to help, but his vision was swimming—he couldn't do anything but watch as the Stryder rained blow after blow into the other Titan's hull.

An idea came to him; he had one last ace up his sleeve. Raising his wrist, he navigated through the interface hooked up to his armor and opened a direct line to the frigate's Pilot ordnance. Mentally keeping track of McFarlane and the Stryder's position, he pinpointed a location with his HUD and began counting down from ten.

The Stryder threw a right cross into the Atlas, watching with satisfaction as it staggered backwards.

_Seven._

McFarlane raised his arms to protect himself from the next blow, but the Stryder Pilot had expected that—an unseen fist from below connected with the Titan's optics.

_Five._

The Stryder snorted at the now weakened McFarlane. "And here I was, expecting a real fight. I hate being disappointed."

_Three._

"McFarlane, get back!" Tobias shouted as loudly as he could manage.

The Atlas looked over at him for one pure second of confusion before it heard the telltale signs of imminent death approaching. Diving out of the way, the Stryder was left standing alone as a streak of orange light descended upon it from the sky.

_One._

Titanfalls were a multistage process—first, a Titan was loaded into a orbital drop-pod for initial entry into the atmosphere. Once launched, the pod would begin to separate and allow the Titan a direct approach to the ground. The purpose of this was to help protect the mech as it descended and transitioned into using state-of-the-art technology to instantly reverse thrust upon arrival, preventing damage to the mech as well as keeping it from leaving a crater wherever it landed. It was the same technology used for Pilot jump-kits, but on a much larger scale.

That said, anything between the Titan and the ground during a titanfall was fair game, hence why the Stryder looked up and didn't even bother to raise its arms in defense as 15 tons of metal traveling with a force of 1,429 G's came down and obliterated it with a resounding boom that echoed through the woods.

As the smoke cleared, Tobias looked over to see a familiar Ion standing in the Stryder's place. She scanned the area until her optics caught sight of him.

"Where is the fight, Pilot?"

He laughed weakly. "You're standing on top of it."

Confusedly, she glanced down at her feet to see the remains of the Stryder, and it clicked. "Oh. I see."

"Yeah, we all did." She turned to see the Atlas approaching from behind and walking over to Tobias. The downed Pilot tilted his head in confusion at McFarlane's meaning.

"I saw you risk yourself for that rifleman," the latter explained, his voice sounding oddly apologetic through his Titan's speakers. "Not to mention that I heard about how you stayed behind to help in the crash on the way over here."

"That's twice you've saved us now," the rifleman from earlier called out, presumably the one who'd told McFarlane. He had the soldier with the broken leg's arm draped over his shoulder as he helped him to walk.

Tobias shook his head slowly. "I couldn't save everyone," he muttered, nodding his head towards the wreckage of the Crow. "So, who's counting?"

"I am," McFarlane said, his voice unusually soft. "Look—I thought you were just another deserter trying to save his own skin in the only way he knew how, but ... I'm willing to give you the benefit of the doubt and say I might have been wrong."

The hatch of the Atlas popped open, and he watched as McFarlane hopped down to the ground and held out his hand. "We're still a ways from being friends, but ... it's a start. No hard feelings?"

Tobias stared at the outstretched hand for a moment or two before extending his own and clasping it with a nod of his head.

"No hard feelings."

McFarlane helped Tobias up to his feet, and then climbed back up into his Titan's open cockpit. Tobias looked back at the two riflemen as they stood waiting for orders.

"No offense, but you guys don't really seem to be in the best shape for travel," he remarked, noting the broken leg. "Might be a better idea for you two to hold position here, hide, and wait for evac."

He could have sworn that the wounded one looked relieved. "Understood, sir. Give 'em hell from us."

Raising his hand up to the top of his helmet in a two-finger salute, Tobias waved them off. Turning around, he found KT kneeling and waiting for him with an open palm. Stepping into her hand, she lifted him up and into her chassis whereupon the hatch closed and the interior was engulfed in shadow. It was a moment or two before the ocular systems came online, and he saw the Atlas giving him a mystified shrug.

"What do you mean by 'travel'?"

"The Stryder mentioned something about a data-center up north, no more than a few kilometers from here," he explained. "I know Operation: Broadsword is more or less about torching IMC research facilities—but what if we could get our hands on some of that data ourselves?"

"Sounds like a dangerous undertaking—far more dangerous than just blowing it up from afar," McFarlane said hesitantly.

"Gates showed me stolen files of theirs, stuff that would be more than enough to smear their reputation," he argued. "But it's not enough—what if we could get our hands on more? Not just to expose the IMC for what they are, but to gain a real advantage? We're talking troop deployments, financial records, secret projects—anything that could get us a leg up in this war."

McFarlane seemed conflicted. On the one hand, orders were simply to wipe out the station. Infiltrating without authorization could land them in trouble—anything from being killed or captured to a disciplinary warning from Gates about following orders, and he was certainly more afraid of the latter.

But on the other hand ...

With a sigh, Tobias heard him open a comm channel to the others. "Vale, Tyra—I found the survivors. Four has an idea that you might find ... intriguing."


	9. The Lead

" _... I repeat, all ground forces are to be recalled immediately. All squads, activate your recovery beacons and await evacuation."_

Gates did a head count of her team, making sure that they'd all made it into the thicket of foliage that led into the jungles of Tyche. Dimitri stood next to her, his own gaze following hers and glancing back at Bear and Jax while they all regained their breath. The latter was peering through the leaves of their new sanctuary to look for potential threats while Bear simply knelt on the ground, checking the mag counters of each of his weapons and ensuring they were properly loaded.

The anti-air fire was becoming far too strong around the IMC's main compound to risk a bombing run, and now command was pulling everyone back. From the way things sounded over the comms, what had initially been a supposed cakewalk had turned into a bloodbath. Resistance was far stronger than any intel had indicated, and Gates considered her team lucky to have evaded the ground forces stationed here—narrow escape didn't even come close to accurately describing their situation, hence why they were now hiding in the brush rather than trying to tangle with any Titans or Pilots in the area.

"Dee," she said lowly, trying to keep her volume to a minimum, "get me a roster of all active squads."

Dimitri was still for a few seconds, accessing a directory through his HUD and sending the information over to hers. She saw it pop up in the bottom right corner of her visor, and opened it to see a list of active teams that had deployed to Tyche and were currently awaiting extraction. There weren't many ground teams left from what she could see ... there was Charlie-Two, her own team of the 6-4, Delta-Five, and—

_Foxtrot-Three. The Heartless._

She instantly recognized it as Four's squad, and a crease formed in her brow. She couldn't quite explain why, but she'd been growing rather fond of the defector—maybe she'd been astonished with his show of selflessness when he'd agreed to fight for the Militia rather than sit out the war, maybe she'd been touched by his obvious care for the Titan that he now called his own, a care that she hadn't often seen before.

_Or maybe it's the fact that no one's so challenged me so openly and gotten away with it before. Have to admit, the way he stood his ground was more than a little alluring—_

She paused for a moment, reflecting on whether that thought had seriously just crossed her mind. Shaking her head in disbelief, she focused back to the task at hand, and tried to open a comm channel to them. Four's lucky streak had endured this far, she hoped it wasn't about to run out.

"Foxtrot-Three, do you copy? This is Captain Gates of the 6-4, respond immediately."

_"... Captain Gates, this is Warrant Officer Vale—we read you."_

She breathed a sigh of relief. "Glad to hear it. Vale, how's your team's status? Have you activated your recovery beacon?"

_"Uh ... no, ma'am."_

_No?_

"Why not?"

The simulacrum took a few seconds to respond. _"Well, Captain ... one of our team members had a plan that I find myself agreeing with."_

_A team member ...? Who would—oh, hell._

"I'd like to talk with this team-member, if you don't mind."

Another few seconds passed before a voice that she recognized piped up over the comlink. _"This is PFC Tobias Four—"_

"Four, what's going on?"

_"Gates? Is that you?"_

"Yes," she confirmed, growing more agitated by the second. "Now, back to the question—your commanding officer says you have a plan that's _more_ appealing than getting evacuated?"

_"Right. Security has tightened in a perimeter around the main compound, but has actually declined near the research division of the facility. If a small team of Pilots were to enter the main data-center, they could swipe a sizable amount of classified intel that could help with future operations."_

Gates' eyes widened. "Am I to assume you've already requested permission for this undertaking?"

_"... Can we have permission to proceed with the undertaking—?"_

"No!" she immediately refused. "It's far too dangerous—activate your recovery beacons, and await extraction! That's an order!"

_"Sorry, Gates ... getting hard to hear you ... I think we got a bad connection—"_

"You know damn well that we don't! You will activate your recovery beacon this instant, or I swear—"

She stopped for a moment, not hearing anything on the other side. She checked the comlink status incredulously. "Unbelievable. He cut the line."

"Captain?"

She turned to look at Dimitri who had apparently listened in on the conversation. "I don't want to be the one to say it, but ... they're as good as dead if they go through with that plan. There's nothing we can do for them."

She pondered his words for a few seconds, biting her lip. It was a bad habit that she was thankful the others couldn't see—one of the reasons she kept her helmet on so often. The weight of his words was heavy, but not without truth—what the Heartless were doing was suicidal, even if Tobias' claims of decreased forces were true. There was no way four Pilots could pull it off ...

 _But what about_ **_eight_ ** _?_

"You're wrong on one thing, Dee," she replied briskly, unslinging her DMR from her back and hefting it up. "They're as good as dead, yeah—but we _can_ do something about that."

He jerked his head abruptly, taken aback by her decision. "You're not seriously suggesting—?"

"Jax, Bear, get ready to move," she ordered the other two. "We're going to give the Heartless some much needed support."

The two of them nodded and complied, but Dimitri grabbed her arm and whispered lowly, "What the hell are you doing? You're really going to risk our lives for—?"

"For what?" she shot back, daring him to finish his sentence. "A few Pilots that nobody else would miss? An ex-IMC soldier who had a change of heart?"

He said nothing, realizing he'd overstepped a boundary that even Gates hadn't known she'd erected. She took a deep breath to calm herself, and glared at him. He stood there for a few moments longer, looking like he still wanted to argue—but he lowered his shoulders in resignation and turned around to step away.

Satisfied that he was no longer a concern, she beckoned to the other two. "Let's go, before they get themselves killed."

**...**

"This is not what I had in mind when you said 'intriguing', McFarlane."

"Would you have rather I said, 'stupid and dangerous'?"

The four of them and their Titans stood roughly half a kilometer from the research facility, standing atop a ridge that overlooked the valley it resided in. Vale was currently scouting the perimeter of their target, noting the large hangar-sized doors that adorned the southern end of the main building.

"Not really," she admitted. "But that's the truth until we figure out a way to get in there—without immediately drawing the fire of every soldier in there, preferably."

"I don't think that's feasible at this point," Tyra remarked, placing one leg on a rock and leaning against her knee. "We'd only need a few seconds to get in—but we'd need a hell of a distraction to draw _that_ much fire away."

Tobias coughed into his hand. "I think I might have an idea to help with that."

Vale turned to him, tilting her head to the side. "Another, 'the Captain isn't going to like this' kind of idea?"

"Probably," he admitted, walking over to where KT and McFarlane's Titan stood. "Titan chassises are equipped with a default OS system when a data-core's not installed, right?"

"Yeah," Tyra agreed, nodding her head. "But it's not really much more than a basic computer VI—it'll only follow basic commands."

"That's alright," he said, looking at KT with chagrin. "We won't need much more than that for a distraction."

KT suddenly realized what he had in mind, and she narrowed her eye at him. "I'm not sure that I like this idea."

He shrugged. "I can't think of anything else, and we're running out of time. Do you have a better plan?"

She was silent for a few moments before giving a resigned, synthetic sigh. "You owe me a new chassis when this is over."

**...**

"Hey, sensors are picking up movement."

The IMC rifleman standing next to the equipment officer looked over his shoulder to confirm the strange reading. "Can't be Militia, they're evacuating. Besides, none of them made it far enough to reach us—"

_FWOOOM._

Ten meters away, a pile of munitions crates erupted in a pyre of flame. Both men jerked backwards, holding their hands up to cover themselves from falling debris. Turning to look out into the valley, they saw a lone Ion approaching them and firing its precision laser at various targets.

"We've got a Titan!" the soldier yelled, grabbing the other man and practically throwing him back towards the building. "Call for backup!"

It was another minute before squads of riflemen began to swarm out of the large entrance, its doors remaining open to allow defensive forces a clear passage. Unbeknownst to them, four Pilots who had been stealthily hiding nearby in a cluster of bushes chose this time to quickly run inside as the Titan slowly reversed its progress and drew them further away from the facility.

"KT's not gonna be happy when she's back," Tobias panted, her data-core clipped securely to his jump-kit's belt.

"I'm just happy we didn't use _my_ Titan's shell," McFarlane replied, running beside him. "You have no idea how many modifications I've invested in for that thing—"

"Focus, you two!" Vale snapped, sprinting ahead with her enhanced mobility as a simulacrum. "We've got a few minutes at best, so find a terminal fast!"

The research center was quite large, much more than Tobias had been expecting. The walls could reach upwards of twenty five feet high, more than enough room for Titans to maneuver around in. It seemed that they'd been constructed out of steel for that exact purpose, though it eventually transitioned to normal plaster and tile once they reached the human-use hallways.

As they ran, Tobias noticed peculiar signage painted on the walls; _SPECIAL PROJECTS._ Every so often, there was an arrow that would help one navigate to the correct department associated with the title.

"That way!" he called out, hoping that 'special projects' was IMC-speak for, 'really damn important'.

The others followed his lead, racing down the set path towards a single pair of locked metal doors. Vale sped up, her legs becoming a blur of silver as she built up momentum and launched herself against them. The prosthetic blades of her legs carried more than enough force to break them open, the doors swinging inward and nearly off their hinges from the impact.

A group of stunned IMC rifleman awaited them, hastily working to draw their weapons. They weren't nearly quick enough to react in time before Tyra, McFarlane, and Tobias unloaded their magazines in a widespread arc around the room. One by one, their bodies thumped against the floor.

"What the hell is this place?" Tyra muttered, now taking the time to look around. The room was massive, nearly the size of the Titan halls they'd run through earlier—and for good reason. An enormous holographic projection was displayed overhead in the air via several large rings glowing with power. Blue and orange lights illuminated the chamber, over-saturating the walls as they all stared up and tried to comprehend what they were seeing.

"That looks like a planet," Tobias muttered, pointing to a holographic orb on one side of the display.

"And what about that?" McFarlane breathed, looking at the opposite side.

What appeared to be some kind of energy beam was shown stretching from the planet to ... something else. The structure of it was odd—it wasn't another planet, or a ship; instead, it seemed to be a set of superimposed rings that rotated over one another.

"I ... have no clue," Tobias whispered, furrowing his brow. Looking for some kind of indicator as to what it was, he noticed some floating text on one side of the hologram.

_Project Atlantis._

"It doesn't matter," Vale dismissed, turning away and jogging over to a data-terminal. "What we came for is inside their systems—somewhere, anyway."

Vale didn't seem worried about it, but ... Tobias couldn't shake some sense of foreboding as he kept staring at the display. Something about this wasn't right, it wasn't—

"Damn it, this directory's massive. We'll never have time to sort through all this before we're caught—"

Tobias wrenched his gaze away and walked over to Vale. He glanced at the screen as she scrolled through the list of files associated with the special projects center.

"So long as it's classified, it's probably valuable," Tyra remarked wryly. Heeding the Pilot's suggestion, Vale delved deeper into the 'restricted' section of the directory.

"Advanced Combat Prototypes, Bioengineering Procedures, Colonial Experimentation ... god, that sounds awful. Advanced Militant Hardware, Project Atlantis—"

Tobias' eyes widened as he recognized the name. "That one, download that one!"

Her head spun around to look at him in bewilderment. "What? Why—"

She was cut off by the sound of an alarm suddenly activating and echoing throughout the facility repeatedly. Swearing, she stuck her data-knife into a compatible slot and abided by his insistence.

"You better hope that whatever's in here is good, Four."

"Trust me," he muttered, looking back at the holographic display. "I've got a feeling about that one."

A sudden spark of light emitted from the floor as a burst of gunfire from the room's entrance ricocheted off the metal. Tobias jerked away, instinctively keeping KT's core away from the general vicinity.

"Tyra, McFarlane! Cover the exit!" Vale ordered, ducking down behind the terminal and pulling out her pistol. The other two reacted to her command and braced themselves on opposite sides of the doorway, poking the barrels of their guns out and firing intermittently at whoever tried to reach them.

Tobias reached for his own weapon—a V-47 assault rifle—and poked his head over the edge of the terminal to cover Vale. Colloquially known as the 'Flatline', his weapon had far more horizontal recoil than he was used to when compared with the IMC's standard R-201's, but he made do with what he'd been given.

"Hurry!" McFarlane yelled, ducking back behind the edge of the door as the sound of bullets peppered the floor next to him.

"It's almost done!" Vale shouted back, taking several shots at their invaders from her position behind the terminal. "It's almost—"

A blue and silver orb soared through the air, falling right in the middle of their positions. Tobias' eyes widened as he recognized the ordnance—an arc grenade, useful for stunning enemies and shorting out electronic devices.

Without hesitating, he dove over the terminal and rolled next to the grenade, reaching out and grabbing it in his hand. As he came back into a crouched position, he chucked it as far as he could down the hallway towards their attackers. It was in the air for no more than a second before it detonated in the middle of the group of IMC riflemen shooting at them from across the way.

Raising the Flatline, Tobias held down the trigger and watched as the side-to-side movement of the gun managed to send a round into every single occupant of the hallway. Watching as they cried out and fell to the ground, some of them dead and some not, he looked at the rifle in stunned amazement.

"Damn, this thing's not half bad."

"Got it!" Vale hollered, grabbing the data-knife and pulling it from the terminal.

"Let's move!" Tobias yelled, not wanting to waste the opportunity of their stunned opposition. Quickly, the quartet sped out of the room and past the bodies of the riflemen.

Using their jump-kits to boost themselves up and into the air, they angled themselves so they landed on the side of the wall and ran upwards into the larger-scaled hallways.

"Keep moving!" Vale urged, waving them forward with her right arm and gun while her left held the left wall and steadied her.

"Like we have a choice!" McFarlane snapped.

Bullet holes appeared in the wall in front of them as a barrage of bullets barely missed them. Deciding that now was a good time to evade, they all jumped off and landed on their knees, sliding forward with their gained momentum.

As Tyra slid, she pivoted herself backwards and allowed herself to face their chasers. Grabbing a frag grenade from her belt, she pulled the pin and tossed it behind them before falling flat and sliding the rest of the way on her back.

The riflemen behind them tried to dive out of the way, though two were unable to escape the blast and were swallowed in the eruption of orange that followed.

"Nice!" Tobias called, witnessing her feat.

She turned to face him, only for her to suddenly stop her momentum by placing her hands against the floor. "I'm not sure that it helped much, unfortunately ..."

He followed her gaze to see what she meant, only for his stomach to drop. Vale and McFarlane had stopped too, frozen at the sight of two Titans standing in front of them—two Tones, medium-class chassises with a load out consisting of handheld 40mm cannons.

"Well, shit," McFarlane panted, eloquently summarizing the situation.

"We have you surrounded!" one of them called out, a Pilot's voice emitting from its speakers. "Lay down your firearms, and you will not be harmed!"

"Fat chance," Tyra murmured, shaking her head ever so slightly.

Tobias would have once believed otherwise, but now he found himself siding with her. After all those experiments he'd learned that the IMC had conducted on innocent civilians, he wasn't too confident that they'd be opposed to similar procedures on prisoners of war.

In front of him, Vale and McFarlane tightened their grips on their weapons. The Titan apparently noticed, because they quickly raised their own cannon and aimed at the group at large.

"You have five seconds to comply! _Five ..."_

"What's the play, coach?" McFarlane muttered, darting his gaze from point to point across the room.

_"Four ..."_

"Don't have one," Vale replied, shaking her head frustratedly. "Just gun down anything that moves, and pray that they're terrible shots."

_"Three ..."_

Tobias held firmly onto the Flatline's handle, trying to single out which targets to go for first. "Shit. It'll take a miracle to get out of this alive—"

_"Two—"_

Without warning, two canisters rolled into the center of the room and popped open, releasing smoke into the air. The four of them remained standing there in bewilderment as the IMC soldiers were obstructed from view, and the sounds of gunfire began to ring out in the fog.

Suddenly, a figure manifested before them, stepping out of the gas and into view—a very familiar figure at that.

"Move your asses!"

Tobias stared at Gates for a moment, then shrugged. "Well ... hallelujah."

"Don't sound so grateful yet," Gates growled warningly, turning and disappearing into the smoke once more. "There's still a good chance you'll end up dead after I'm through with you."

Suddenly, he felt as though he'd rather fight alone against the congregation of IMC than have that eventual conversation with Gates. Groaning, he followed after her, the rest of the Heartless close behind.

Emerging on the other end of the cloud, Gates waved to other three 6-4 members waiting for her and providing covering fire into the crowd. "I've got them, move!"

"You heard her!" Dimitri yelled, standing up from his crouched position and turning to run. "Outside, now!"

The eight of them ran through the facility towards the massive open doors that they'd first entered in. It was another minute before they crossed the threshold of the base, finding themselves back out in the jungle of Tyche while the IMC forces behind them continued to shoot after them.

Fifty yards away, a Widow dropship descended from above, its large side-doors sliding open and revealing McFarlane's Titan standing within. As it unholstered its 40mm cannon, it caught sight of its partner. "Good to see you, Pilot."

"Likewise, buddy!" McFarlane called out with a hoot. It began to fire at their pursuers as they all rushed to the ship and leapt into its waiting bay.

Slamming his fist into the side of the wall, Dimitri yelled, "Punch it!"

Instantly, the ship began to lift away from the ground with the doors still open. As they sped away, Vale turned to look at Gates. "What's the hurry?"

"Thanks to you four's little escapade, the resistance around the base weakened as more forces were diverted to assist in capturing the infiltrating Pilots," she explained, crossing her arms. "Which means that the frigates have gotten close enough to begin targeting the facility ..."

Though it was hard to hear over the sound of the wind passing around them, Tobias detected the sound of something screaming downward from above. Glancing upward, his eyes widened to see streaks of orange raining down from orbit. With laser-precision, they each found their mark in the compound and sent the facility to kingdom come.

Millions of shards of metal and other shrapnel flew into the air as the compound was completely obliterated, debris filling the air with the density of a sandstorm. A shockwave quickly traveled from the impact site into the air, rattling the Widow as it reached them. As the doors mercifully closed, Tobias swallowed hard.

"If we hadn't found you when we did, that'd be you right about now," Gates hissed.

"How'd you even find us, anyway?" Tyra asked.

"We tracked his Titan," one of the other 6-4 members answered—Jax, his name was. "It was waiting for you to return—we brought down a Widow and loaded him up here while we went in to grab you—"

"You _idiots,"_ Gates cut him off, filling in whatever Jax had been about to say with her own description. "Do you have any explanation for your _abysmally_ stupid decision to risk your lives like that—?"

Tobias held a hand to the mouthpiece of his helmet and coughed into it, stunning her into silence. "Well ... we _did_ manage to steal a copy of that facility's special projects' data.

Gates stared at him blankly. "You ... you what?"

"Well, a good amount of it, anyway," Vale continued, unsheathing her data-knife and handing it over to the Captain who accepted it silently. "The directory was too large to grab everything."

The 6-4 said nothing, too shocked to respond. The Heartless stared back at them expectantly, silent until Tyra crossed her arms in smug satisfaction.

"I think this is the part where you say, 'thank you'."


	10. Riverstone

_< I'm going to guess that you did NOT receive a 'thank you'. >_

"What was your first clue, KT?"

He didn't mean to sound abrasive, but it was hard not to be pissed off when things had gone so wrong just when he thought everything was going to go right.

"Talking to your Titan again, Four?"

Tobias ignored Tyra's question, slightly blaming her snide comment to Gates for their treatment right now—but he knew that it was really his own fault. He'd been the one to come up with the plan, he was the one who convinced everyone to disobey orders, and he was the one who had nearly gotten everyone killed.

He gave a huff of breath. If he'd been on shaky ground with the Militia before, then now he was practically dancing in an earthquake.

_< That's ... an odd analogy."_

"Shut up."

They'd all been confined to the infirmary, initially for a health inspection after their harrowing escape from the data-center—but it became quite clear that their actions had consequences. Now, they waited as their fates were discussed by higher-ranking Militia officials; after all, what does one do with a squad of disobedient soldiers?

The only relief he had at the moment was that they'd carried out his request to have KT's data-core installed in another chassis. She was currently being monitored in the Titan bay, the section of the ship reserved for storage of the large mechs. With their neural link active again, he could breathe easily knowing she was safe—

"Well, it looks like we've got time for your tale now."

The room had been silent for a good while. The suddenness of Vale's voice caught him off-guard, and he glanced over at her in confusion. "Huh?"

She gestured at him with her hand. "Your story, what is it? You've never exactly told us the details."

He felt his mouth become a bit dry. "Not much to tell, honestly."

"Oh, really?" she said, sounding amused. "If I'm not mistaken, your Titan is KT-0298; the same Titan that Captain Shears piloted."

McFarlane lifted his head from between his knees, his eyes widening in recognition. "Holy shit, is that true?"

"Oh, it's true alright," Vale confirmed. "Shears was something of a legend to the rest of us, on different level entirely. So the question is ... how did she end up with you, an IMC Pilot?"

He was silent for a few moments, contemplating how to answer her or whether to even answer her at all. At the mention of Shears, his mind began to replay the scene on Nedar again, grasping Shears' bloodied hand as the Pilot wordlessly held onto the only form of comfort he knew—

"I killed him."

The sudden clarity of that statement hit him—and while it hurt, it almost felt like a relief to say it out loud. None of the other three responded, too stunned by his admission to form a proper reply.

Finally, Tyra stammered, "You ... _you_ killed him?"

He nodded. "The two of us fought in the skirmish on Nedar—we both probably would have killed each other, but I got lucky. Got knocked unconscious ..."

It was cathartic to share it at last, the guilt that had been gnawing at him since he'd first met KT in the snow. "As funny as it sounds, he _saved_ me. I would have died with the rest of my squad on the dropship, and then ... it was through his death that I found a new life, a new _purpose_ to keep me going. I wouldn't be here without him."

Tyra stared at him blankly. "... I don't _get_ you, Four."

He looked up and matched her gaze. "What do you mean?"

"I just ... I just don't know what made you switch to the losing side, and make no mistake—we _are_ losing." She cocked her head. "I get that you killed Shears, but ... you had to have killed before. How could _one_ guy make you turn your back on the IMC?"

His mouth became set in a thin line. "Sometimes ... one death is just one too many." He lowered his eyes. "KT helped me see that."

"That's a first—usually, one death is never enough for the IMC," she snorted.

He shrugged. "I don't know, I was with them for almost six years. I've seen some good people ... and I've seen some bad people. The Militia's the same—some good, some bad ... some both." He shook his head slowly in thought. "I used to think that people were pretty black-and-white ... now, I'm not so sure."

"So then why bother deserting the IMC at all? What could the Militia offer that's worth your while?"

She had a point—thus far, there hadn't been much that he'd gained out of fighting for the opposite side. The people he'd met had certainly been interesting to say the least, and he had friends here—but that was true of the IMC as well. What was unique to the Militia?

A single thought came to mind—one of a friendly blue optic that, in spite of himself, he found himself growing to care for more and more with each passing day.

She waited for his answer, but he gave her none.

The sudden hiss of a door sliding upward grabbed all of their attention. Stepping through the doorway were Gates and Dimitri, the latter looking none too pleased. Tobias didn't even need to see past Gates' helmet to know that she had a similar expression on her own face.

"You four—with us."

He grimaced at her tone. "I'm assuming our situation is pretty serious?"

She glared at him, and he sensed a scowl aimed in his direction. "You have _no_ idea."

...

Unexpectedly, the four of them were _not_ immediately marched to the brig.

Even more unexpectedly, their destination was far from a place of punishment whatsoever—Gates and Dimitri escorted the quartet to the bridge, leading them into the control room of the frigate wordlessly. One of the crew members noticed their arrival, and nodded in her direction.

"Welcome back, ma'am—the connection became a bit frazzled when you left, we're working on stabilizing it. Patching you through ... now."

A small dais in the middle of the room lit up at her words, humming as it did so. As it reinitiated, a holographic shape began to form on its surface out of gridded blue light.

Gates nodded respectfully at the hologram. "Commander."

Tobias had to keep himself from letting his jaw drop. Standing on the dais was a hologram of Sarah Briggs, one of the most widely-known Militia leaders on the frontier. She was infamous throughout the IMC controlled worlds—it had been her and Cheng 'Bish' Lorck that had revitalized the Militia's fighting efforts. They were the ones who found the legendary ex-IMC Pilot, James MacAllan, on a long-forgotten world, and had him join their forces. The addition of MacAllan alone was thought to have been the tipping point in the war—the IMC's defeat at Demeter would not have been possible without them.

It was odd, knowing this woman was partially responsible for the lives of the friends he'd lost there—and now finally meeting her years later on the same side.

Briggs gave a short wave to Gates. _"Captain—are these the ones you told me about?"_

Gates nodded. "This is Foxtrot-Three, ma'am—Warrant Officer Vale, step forward."

The simulacrum obeyed immediately, placing herself in front of the dais. "Ma'am, it's an honor to meet you."

Briggs had a pale complexion, and a red bandana that wrapped around her head, keeping her hair spiked upward. Definitely looked like someone he wouldn't want to pick a fight with. She gestured at Vale.

_"As I understand it, your squad went against a direct order to await extraction—and instead decided to infiltrate an IMC research center, endangering your own lives as well as those that came to rescue you. Is that correct?"_

She nodded simply. "Yes, ma'am."

_"And what reason would you give for such recklessness?"_

Vale was silent for a few seconds, debating internally how to respond. Tobias watched her carefully, wondering why she didn't get it over with—

"I have no excuse, ma'am."

_What?_

She was going to take the fall for him? His eyes widened at the realization, and he felt a sudden weight in his chest. No ... the idea had been his, _he_ was the one responsible ... he wasn't going to sit back and let her throw her career away for his sake.

_"Very well. If that's that, then—"_

"It was me, Commander."

Everyone's heads snapped towards him as he stepped forward next to Vale. Briggs' brow rose slightly as she noted his armor, its white coloration sticking out amongst the olive drab of everyone else, but did not mention the abnormality.

"I was the one who convinced them to go," he explained, feeling everyone's eyes on him as he spoke. "One of the soldiers we fought had mentioned it—I thought we could get in and out easily—but if it hadn't been for the 6-4, we'd be dead ... or worse."

He bobbed his head towards Gates as he said that, noticing that her gaze didn't leave him.

Briggs gave a thoughtful hum. _"Your armor isn't exactly standard Militia issue, Pilot. Any explanation for that?"_

He swallowed hard. "I ... I'm an ex-IMC Pilot, ma'am."

She nodded carefully. _"And now you fight for us?"_

"I fight for peace."

_"So does the IMC, in their own twisted way. What made you switch sides?"_

It seemed that a lot of people were asking him that as of late. He had yet to find a suitable answer for any of them—he still wasn't quite sure himself whether the Militia was right or wrong, but he was certain she wouldn't want to hear that ... all he could tell them was the truth.

"A friend showed me a better way."

She eyed him carefully, scrutinizing him for deception. _"I see."_ Apparently she didn't detect any from him. She turned towards Vale. _"Is this true?"_

Vale looked like she wanted to say otherwise, but she slumped her shoulders. "Yes, ma'am."

What would happen to him now? Would he simply be discharged from the Militia, shuttled off to live on Harmony like Gates had originally planned? Or would he be punished, made an example for those that would make foolhardy decisions like his?

_"Then it would seem that I have you to thank for saving our skins."_

"... What?"

Briggs turned and nodded to one of the technicians behind her, and another hologram began to form alongside her—a familiar one at that. _"The eggheads did some digging through the intel you recovered, the special project titled 'Atlantis'."_

The display next to her was the same foreboding one that they'd seen back in the data-center; a planet seemingly being targeted by a beam that came from ... _something._

_"Most of the other data is heavily encrypted. While we're working on cracking those finer details open, we were able to surmise a possible guess as to what this is, and engineer a demonstration."_

Without warning, the planet seemed to crack and break, splitting open as it was torn apart down to the core. Pieces of it could be seen being pulled away and towards the source of the beam, the inter-lapping rings they'd seen before.

 _"We believe that the IMC are working on, or have possibly already built, a weapon of some kind. A weapon with the destructive capability to destroy entire worlds."_ She turned towards the Heartless. _"What this weapon is, how it works, or where it might be are all questions that we need answered."_

"That's what we saw in the special projects lab!" McFarlane exclaimed, pointing at the hologram. "The whole room had a display for it—"

Briggs turned to him sharply. _"You saw this?"_

Tyra nodded next to him. "Yeah, but it only showed the first part—not the whole, 'planet exploding' thing you put together there, nice touch by the way." She jabbed a thumb at Tobias. "He was the one who told us to download that particular project file."

Briggs found her attention returning to Tobias. _"Do you have any knowledge of what this might be?"_

He shook his head in shock. "I had no idea what it was ... just that it gave me a bad feeling."

She nodded understandingly, though her face betrayed some of her disappointment. _"I can't imagine it's common knowledge. The IMC higher-ups have likely kept this secret amongst themselves—and we'll follow their example."_ She pointed at the Heartless. _"None of this is to leave this room, not until we know more—is that understood?"_

"Yes, ma'am," the four of them responded instantly, nodding their heads in unison.

She crossed her arms, evidently satisfied. _"Good._ _Briggs out."_

The holo-dais deactivated, the blue likeness of Briggs dissipating into the air as it did so. Gates and Dimitri began to usher the other Pilots out of the room, allowing the bridge crew to go about their business once more.

As the door shut behind them, she wagged a finger in their direction. "The Commander meant what she said—not a word of this to anyone, got me?"

"Yeah, yeah," Tyra grumbled, evidently displeased by the freelancer's lack of faith. "Our traps are shut."

They began to make their way back to the hangar before Gates whistled sharply. "You three are free to go—Four, a word?"

Tobias had felt that this was coming, but had still hoped desperately that it wouldn't. Turning around and walking back to her, he watched as she turned to Dimitri.

"Go on ahead, I'll catch up."

He bowed his head slightly in acknowledgement before stepping away and following after the Heartless. Gates stood there with her arms crossed, staring at Tobias as the seconds ticked on in silence.

"If you ever do something so irrationally stupid like that again, all the Titans in the world aren't going to be enough to stop me from kicking your ass."

He winced. "But not before saving it first, right?"

She said nothing for a moment—and then he heard a small snigger from within her helmet, so quiet that he might have missed it. "Well, of course—I'd have nothing to kick, otherwise."

He breathed a sigh of relief, seemingly back to being on good terms with her. Their interaction had certainly changed from their first few encounters—and he had to say, he much preferred their current exchanges than their past ones.

"So ... what did you have planned today?"

He raised an eyebrow, confused at the sudden question. "What do you mean?"

She shrugged innocently. "Well, I'm sure you thought for a while that we were going to hold a trial then and there—is there anything you plan to do with your newfound freedom?"

He chuckled lightly. "Right. Well, I should probably head back and check on KT—I haven't seen her since the whole thing on Tyche."

"Ah, probably a good idea." She turned to look down the hall, having received an answer that she apparently wasn't looking for.

Something gnawed at him, something he wasn't sure he quite fully understood—Gates intrigued him in a way that he wasn't certain how to make sense of. First, she'd saved him from Nedar—at gunpoint, it should be noted. Then, she'd tried to humiliate him at his link-session with KT—though, without her help, he wasn't sure that they would have managed the connection.

But it all led up to the operation today, and the difference was staggering. That moment in the hangar before they'd embarked on their respective dropships ...

_"Either you're one of the biggest fools on the frontier," she trailed off, stepping closer to him all the while. Lifting one hand up, she extended a finger and placed it squarely on his chest._

_"Or you've got a better heart than most I've met."_

An idea struck him, and he threw caution to the wind.

"What about you?"

She glanced back at him again. "Me?"

"Yeah, what do you have planned?"

She paused for a moment. "Mostly just working out—I keep the 6-4 on a strict regiment when it comes to training. We aren't the best Pilots on the frontier for nothing, after all." She shrugged. "After that, likely paperwork—I've got to write a report for Briggs as to how the rest of the operation went, aside from your squad's big discovery."

She said the last part with some mirth, but then looked at him quizzically. "Why?"

_Oh, man._

"Well," he started, already hating how strange his voice suddenly seemed to sound, "obviously you're busy—but, I mean, if you weren't, then I was thinking maybe you and I could ... catch up."

She stared at him blankly. "Catch up?"

"Right—I mean, it's been a few weeks since we last had a chance to talk, you know, figured it'd be nice to see each other again." He felt the base of his neck growing hotter by the second.

_Why did I think this was a good idea?_

"Anyway, I'm just gonna go now—"

"Sure."

He stopped in his tracks, not positive if he'd heard right. "Sure?"

She nodded. "You're right, it has been a while—and friends should keep in touch, right? I can put aside the training for one day."

"Um—"

Without waiting for his response, she walked past him and strutted down the hall towards the hangar. She waved a hand behind her without looking back. "I'll meet you at your quarters later, once I'm done with the assessment. Looking forward to catching up!"

Was it just him, or were her hips swaying a little more to each side than they had before?

_What have I gotten myself into?_


	11. Cards on the Table

He walked into the Titan bay, the section of the ship reserved for Titans either inactive or on standby. Hung on racks that lined the walls were empty chassises, just waiting to house a data-core, and spare parts were lying around every so often. Most Titans found entered a 'sleep' mode when not actively deployed, though there were still several that chose to remain active, and they could be seen walking about the bay.

"KT?"

Several of the other Titans made note of him, but did not address him. Tobias found himself feeling rather out of place here, like he was intruding on something private.

"KT? You in here?"

"Yes, Pilot."

The response came from off to his right. Looking over, he saw an Ion making her way over to him. She appeared slightly different in this new chassis—gone was the monotonous grey of her old chassis. Instead, her new body was nearly black, its texture seemingly that of carbon-fiber, and had orange safety markers on it—obviously, it hadn't been prepped for general use yet.

He took off his helmet, and gave her a friendly wave with his free hand. "Hey. How you holding up?"

She blinked. "All things considered, rather well. You?"

Sighing, he gave her a half-hearted shrug. "I mean, I haven't been discharged. So that's good news."

"True enough." KT looked away. "Though I must admit, the idea that the IMC are building a weapon on a planetary scale is troubling."

His gaze quickly snapped to her. "You know about that?"

"You're not quite adept with controlling your neural link yet—during periods of stress, especially. I heard everything discussed in that room." She held one of her large hands up to halt him from speaking. "Do not worry—I will not share this information with anyone else, as per Commander Briggs' orders."

He let out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, and closed his eyes. "That's good. Thanks, KT."

"Of course, Pilot."

A thought struck him, and he glanced tentatively back up at her. "Uh ... you wouldn't happen to have seen anything else, would you—?"

"Besides your clumsy interaction with the Captain? No, not a thing."

His eyes widened, and he crossed his arms with an expression of mock reproach. "Is that a joke? Did you just crack a joke, and at my expense, no less?"

"I don't recall 'cracking jokes' as one of my protocols," she replied innocently. "If I _were_ to perform such an action, I can only assume it would be a learned behavior."

He raised an eyebrow. "Unbelievable—you're blaming _me_ for your newfound funny-bone, that's rich."

"The concept of blame does not hold the proper qualities to be considered 'wealthy'."

"Okay, you're pushing your luck now."

Then she did something he'd never heard her do before; she laughed.

It was a small laugh, but a laugh nonetheless. A moment later, however, she abruptly fell silent.

"Kay? What's up?"

"Nothing, Pilot," she dismissed, trying to move on from the unusual event. "I am simply glad to see you and the Captain growing closer as friends. Your initial conversations were far more ... hostile."

"I thought you were going to go for a subtler word," he muttered defensively, "but yeah, that about sums it up. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't glad too—she seems to have done a total one-eighty from when we first met." He looked at her seriously. "Though, I'm not convinced that that's what you were concerned about. Seriously, what's up?"

"To what are you referring?"

"Exactly what you're doing now, you're hiding something. You just laughed—and then locked it down just as quickly. You don't think that looks suspicious?"

She remained quiet. He began tapping his foot absentmindedly. "I can wait here all night, KT."

The seconds dragged on as they stared one another down, each waiting for the other to make the first move, much like they had on Nedar.

Finally she gave a resigned sigh. She seemed hesitant to answer him. "Do you remember when I met you in the hangar after you volunteered to be my Pilot?"

He didn't know where this was going, but he figured he'd see it through. "Yeah, I remember. I was people-watching."

"I asked you why you risked yourself to keep me from being decommissioned."

He nodded. "Yeah, I told you it was because you gave me a new purpose."

"Just as I had found one in you. But then you did something no one had ever done before." She focused her optic in on him as though seeing him in a new light.

"You called me a friend."

He was taken aback. What was this about?

She looked away from him, and down at the floor. "Titans are not friends. We are equipment to be used for warfare, seen by many others, Pilots included, as expendable."

KT glanced back at him. "You, however ... you refer to me as a friend as easily as you would another human. Not even Captain Shears would have considered Titans to be more than companions; military hardware with human-like traits, yes, but not much else."

He was a bit shocked to hear all of this coming from her at once. He hadn't realized that she'd been bottling up these thoughts and hiding them from him.

"So when you first called me a friend, I was unsure of how to respond. I decided that I would continue to monitor our interactions; the way we fight together, the way we talk. And I've come to realize that I consider you my friend as well. It is ... an entirely new feeling."

She stared down at the ground, almost dejectedly.

"I am worried."

He moved closer, so he could put himself back into her line of sight. "About what?"

"I was concerned for a time that you had only accepted the offer to join the Militia as a ruse. To be clear, I thought you might only be pretending to defect so that you could eventually rejoin the IMC."

"What?"

"I've come to understand that this is not the case, but I must admit; I was very worried when I heard about this new potential weapon the IMC is constructing. I had a momentary fear that you would abandon me, and return to them if you believed your odds of survival were better with them than with the Militia."

That was not what he'd been expecting at all. "You're ... you're afraid of me leaving you?"

"I know now that you're motivated by more than that; you've clearly proven by now that survival is not exactly one of your top priorities, but ..." Again, she looked down almost as though she were embarrassed.

"You are my only ... friend. I do not want to lose you."

He swallowed hard, and approached her slowly. She watched him carefully with her optic as he placed one hand over his chest in an expression of solemnity.

"Kay, I'm not going anywhere."

Her gaze never left him as he stared at her unblinkingly. "I was taught when I was younger that your word meant everything—a promise is the ultimate sign of trust. As such, I've never broken a promise before."

He patted her leg reassuringly. "And I'm not about to start now. Kay, I promise; I will never abandon you." He cracked a smile. "Even when you eventually get sick of my bad jokes, the sad fact is that you're stuck with me. Okay?"

She nodded, and spoke again; but this time with a far warmer tone. "Thank you, Four. I ... needed to hear that."

He gave her a comforting nod, then checked the time via his wrist interface. "Oh, damn—I've got to meet up with Gates soon."

"No problem, Pilot," she said. "Go, I'll see you tomorrow."

"Thanks. See you tomorrow."

She nodded and turned towards one of the racks. He left her to her business, and made his way back towards his quarters.

**...**

"Huh. Roomier than I would have thought. This is all yours?"

Gates swiveled her head to look at the generous space that Tobias had introduced as his quarters. There were three other bunks prepped and ready for use, but she couldn't see anyone else's belongings in the room besides his own. He shrugged.

"Yeah. I guess these are usually meant to be shared, but there wasn't exactly a shortage on available quarters in the barracks." He quietly added, "That, and no one was keen on the idea of sleeping in the same room as an ex-IMC Pilot. Higher-ups thought this would be best."

Though he said it with a somewhat joking tone, she could detect a faint trace of bitterness in his voice. "What about Foxtrot-Three?"

"Vale said she'd start the paperwork to have me moved, but I don't know how long that will take." Again, he shrugged his shoulders with an air of indifference. "It's alright—I like the extra space."

 _But probably not the loneliness,_ she thought to herself. Shaking her head ever so slightly, she pulled out a chair from the table in the middle of the room, and sat down. She gestured to the seat opposite hers.

"You wanted to catch up, right? Well, I've got the perfect game to help us do so."

Raising an eyebrow, he looked skeptical of her claim—but he obliged and sat down.

"You ever play 'Crooks and Crowns'?"

He shook his head. "Can't say I have."

"Rules are pretty simple; each of us starts with two cards. You have to point to one card and say what it is; you can't lie about what kind of card you have, but you _can_ lie about _which_ card is which. The other one stays unknown."

She pulled out a deck from a pouch on her belt, pulling the cards out of the box and shuffling them quickly. "You can call me on it and say I'm bluffing, and vice versa—if I told you the truth about which card is which, you lose. If I lied, I lose. If neither of us calls, it goes to the hand."

Flicking the top two cards of the deck towards him, he grabbed them and took a good look while she continued. "We each have to steal a card from each other based on what we were told earlier. Then, using your original card, the one you robbed, and one of the three on the table, you try to get as close to twenty-five as possible. Aces are one or eleven, the royal cards are worth fifteen. It's okay to go over, just make sure you're closer than the other players. Winner is the Crown, and the loser is the Crook."

"What does the Crook lose?"

"Well, usually it depends on what you're playing for."

He furrowed his brow. "What do you mean?"

"Well, it could be any number of things. The two most common 'prizes' are money and ..." She coughed awkwardly. "Ahem, er, clothing."

His eyes widened, and she quickly waved her hands as though to ward off whatever thoughts he may be having. "That's not how we're gonna play! In our case, we'll just play for truths—Crown gets to ask the Crook a question. That way, we can catch up on what we've missed. Sound good?"

He nodded, a sigh of relief escaping him. "Yeah, sounds good."

"Alright, you go first."

He shook his head. "Not so fast; if this is a game about deception, I think it's fair I get to judge when you are or aren't lying. Helmet comes off."

She cocked her head to one side in confusion, then seemed to realize what he was referring to. "Oh, right—yeah, I suppose that's fair."

"Can't believe you've never once taken the helmet off in front of me."

"Just a matter of circumstance; I do have a face under here, I swear."

Reaching her hands up to the seals of her helmet, she unclasped them and slowly lifted up. As she did so, her tangle of short, dark brunette hair styled in a pixie cut greeted him as it fell into place. Her eyes were a rich brown, much lighter than most, somewhere between chestnut and amber.

Aside from that, he couldn't pinpoint anything that stood out—she was, in the nicest sense of the word, rather ordinary looking. She wasn't a super-model, or someone that would turn others' heads when they walked into a room—but that was okay. You didn't need to when you were one of the most elite mercenaries on the frontier.

That didn't mean that seeing her for the first time didn't have an effect on him. He blinked a few times, stunned at the reveal; she pursed her lips and narrowed her eyes at him.

"What? Not what you were expecting?"

He shook himself out of his stupor. "Um, sorry—didn't mean to stare. To be honest? No, not at all. You're even prettier than I thought."

_... Did I really just say that?_

Both of them became still, looking at one another in shock—him for realizing what he'd just said, and her for him having said it.

After a moment, she lifted a hand and brushed her sweeping bangs out of her eyes with a slight smile. "Thanks. You know, you're much more charming than you first let on."

He cleared his throat uncomfortably, eliciting a laugh from her as he bobbed his head at the table. "Should we, uh, get back to the game?"

"Sure. Still your turn."

He took another hasty look at his cards, then pointed to the one on the right. "Eight."

"Call."

He narrowed his eyes, and flipped his cards over in consternation—he did have an eight, but it was a six that he'd pointed to. "How'd you know?"

"Not only is this your first time playing," she said with a chuckle, "but your face is still flushed from before. I don't think you're in any position to be bluffing right now."

He gritted his teeth, feeling the hotness in his cheeks rising again. That was what she wanted, him on edge—it'd make him a lousy player. He steadied his breathing, and went for the counter attack.

"Well, I think it's only fair that we talk about how _charming_ you think I am."

She raised an eyebrow. "Oh? What about it?"

"Well, that word has some certain connotations—so what exactly do you find so alluringabout me?"

She held a hand over her mouth and widened her eyes as she laughed. "Oh, no—if I recall correctly, _you_ were the Crook. We'll chalk this up to a practice round, but you haven't earned the right to question me yet."

He held a hand up in surrender, giving her back the cards and allowing her to reshuffle. Two new cards came his way, which he quickly glanced at and planted facedown before pointing to the left one.

"Ten."

She analyzed her own and tapped the right card. "Ace."

Back to him. He opted to take the card she'd indicated, and held his own out for her to grab. She selected the one he'd pointed to as well.

Swapping cards, he found himself with an Ace and smiled. She, on the other hand, was left with his three. Dealing three cards onto the table, they were a five, a nine, and a jack.

Revealing their cards, he showed her the Ace and a Ten. She showed the three she robbed from him, and an eight.

"Twenty-six for both of us then," she said quickly, brushing the tie aside—but he held a hand up.

"I think I win with the ace-kicker here." He displayed it openly for her to see, a grin on his face.

She crossed her arms. "Alright, shoot."

"Why do you keep the helmet on all the time?"

She laughed, the sound of which he found himself beginning to enjoy immensely. "Honestly? Just out of habit. Spent a lot of time in armor when the 6-4 weren't partnered with the Militia—the frontier's a dangerous place, and I got used to having my head protected at all times." She waved a hand dismissively. "The rumors that the riflemen start are just a bonus—the mystery of my appearance seems to intimidate them."

"I don't think it's just your lack of a face that does that."

"Oi, shut it. Again."

Two more cards were dealt. This time, Gates started the round.

"King."

"Call."

She flipped her card up triumphantly—a king, clear as day. "Alright—what made you stick your neck out for the Titan? You could have gone and settled down on Harmony, lived a nice quiet life for yourself. Why didn't you?"

He was quiet for a few moments, thinking seriously on how best to answer her question. "To be honest—I didn't know at first. I felt like I was obligated to after what I'd done, after what we'd gone through." He gave a small hum. "I think ... I think that, in that moment, I just didn't care about myself at all. I'd spent so much time looking after my own needs that it was a disconcerting thing to put her safety above mine—but that's exactly what happened. She was more important to me than ... me."

Gates said nothing, but the corners of her mouth were tugged upwards. "Like I said—you've got a good heart, Four."

He nodded in appreciation, and smiled back at her. "You _can_ just call me Tobias, you know."

She considered the option, and nodded in agreement. "Alright. Tobias it is—Toby for short?"

He shook his head vehemently. "God, no. I haven't been called Toby since—"

He fell silent, trailing off and leaving the thought unsaid. Gates saw the crestfallen look on his face, and chose not to question him on it. Instead, she simply shuffled the deck and passed each of them two more cards.

"Five."

"Seven."

He reached for the card she'd pointed to, and found himself holding a queen. She grabbed his 'five' and came away with a two. The three cards were then dealt in the middle—a five, a ten, and a six.

"Damn," she muttered.

"Okay—why the sudden change in personality?"

Her head snapped up, surprise evident in her features. "Come again?"

"When we first met, you threatened to kill me. When I argued to keep KT as my Titan, you tried to humiliate me. But after that, you were like a different person—giving me compliments, saving my ass down on Tyche, and now this. Any reason in particular as to why?"

She was quiet. "I'm sorry, about before. Really. I'm not exactly the defining image of a 'people-person', so to speak—and I think I was bent on treating you the same as any other IMC defector without taking the time to get to know you." She wagged a finger at him jokingly. "But don't think I'll go easy on you now if you challenge me again—I've got a reputation to uphold!"

He furrowed his brow. "Hmmph. That still doesn't explain why you changed your mind."

In a completely unforeseen circumstance, she raised one eyebrow suggestively and smiled shyly. "Let's just say that your ... _charm ..._ has made me rather fond of you."

He stared blankly at her, completely at a loss. She snorted at his reaction, or lack of one. "C'mon, let's go another round.

Deck was shuffled, cards were dealt. Tobias swallowed, and looked at his.

"Nine."

"King—"

"Call."

"I didn't even get to finish what I was saying!"

"Was it your king?"

He sighed, and threw his cards face up. "No."

"So ... that weapon you and the Heartless discovered." Gates leaned in closer, her voice becoming lower. "Any theories on where it came from?"

He shook his head solemnly. "No idea—believe me, I'd tell you all if I knew. Never seen anything like it before, and the IMC certainly never told us grunts about it."

"That planet in the display—totally ripped apart. What kind of weapon can even do that?"

"None that I know of."

"Almost seems like overkill. Why design something so technologically advanced that it can alter gravity—just to use it as a weapon?" She shook her head. "Just a waste of resources if you ask me."

"Well, it's obviously got Briggs worried," Tobias pointed out, "so they've done _something_ right. You think they've already built it, or are still working on it?"

"If it was done, whatever it may be, Harmony would have been blown out of the sky by now," she muttered. "Either they're still building it, or they just can't get it to work."

She leaned back in her seat out of frustration. "I just wish we had a way to find out more. We don't know where it comes from, where it's located—"

"How would we even go about doing that?"

"Well, we'd need to find another IMC database."

He paused, his eyes widening. "That's it?"

"Essentially, yeah. The IMC share all information over a network, so, technically speaking, you only need to find one connection to get into the whole thing. Once we have one, we could hack its contents and cross-search specifically for information pertaining to this 'Project Atlantis' thing. But we have no way of knowing where access-points to the network are without manually storming each and every IMC research facility we come across until we find one—"

Tobias stood up so suddenly that Gates was afraid his neck would get whiplash. Setting his cards down on the table, he began to jog away. "Thanks for the game, Gates!"

"Wha—where are you going?"

He turned around to face her as he opened the door to his quarters and disappeared around the edge of its frame.

"I need to talk with Briggs—I think I know where you can find an access point."


	12. Thicker Than Water

Tobias watched as the holographic likeness of Briggs manifested on the bridge's holo-table, and looked at him with some surprise—and disapproval.

_"Pilot—to what do I owe the pleasure?"_

"Sorry to disturb you, ma'am," he said breathlessly, the technicians in the room watching him with careful eyes. Their concern was understandable—he _had_ practically barged in here unannounced and demanded to speak with Briggs immediately.

Hopefully, they'd forgive his intrusion once they'd all had a chance to hear him out.

"'Disturb' is right—what the hell do you think you're doing?"

He turned around to see Gates stepping onto the bridge, Dimitri following close behind her. Neither looked too pleased with Tobias's abrupt actions, but he held a hand up to make them halt. "Just listen to me—please."

He turned back to the hologram. "I think I know how we can obtain more information on this 'Atlantis' project."

Briggs crossed her arms. _"Is that so? Mind filling me in?"_

He nodded. "Captain Gates told me that you need an access-point to the IMC's data-network; but tracking one down is going to be hard for two reasons. One, you don't know where research facilities for the IMC might be located. And two, even if you _did_ start assaulting every base you came across, they'd figure out pretty damn quickly what you're up to—that is, assuming they haven't already."

Briggs kept her arms interlocked, but her expression was less disdainful—she showed a genuine interest now.

_"Alright, but I fail to see what you're getting at. Those aren't factors we can change."_

"They're factors that _I_ can change." He furrowed his brow. "Or, at least I can tell you how to change them."

The Militia's leader narrowed her eyes at him. _"What are you getting at?"_

"You need a connection terminal, you need a reliable location for it, and you need to get everything right on the first try so that the IMC doesn't catch wind of what you're up to," he explained. "What you need isn't in a facility—it's on an IMS frigate."

_"I'm sorry?"_

"All frigates run off of the same network that their ground facilities do," he continued excitedly. "Data stored in local drives will be different—information that only pertains to each base or ship, so to speak. But thanks to Spyglass, you can access shared data for the vast majority of IMC operations from anywhere."

"Spyglass?" one of the technicians asked confusedly, the name escaping their recognition. Briggs, however, curled her lip at the mention.

_"The IMC's leader—the rogue AI?"_

"After Demeter, it was put in charge of all IMC forces stranded on the frontier," Tobias confirmed. "But its original function was as a wartime intelligence—and for an AI to make effective decisions on a galactic scale, it needs to be _aware_ on a galactic scale. Its mainframe is the heart of the network's infrastructure, so anything that _it_ knows is something that IMC forces know, no matter how scattered they might be."

_"You seem to know a lot about this—why didn't you share this earlier?"_

He shook his head apologetically. "Gates mentioned something that clicked in my head, the network. I realized that something this big _has_ to be known by Spyglass, which means we don't need to find a research center—we just need to find a ship under his command."

_"And how do you propose we find one?"_

"Simple," he stated. "I already have one for you—the IMS Kraken. It's assigned to a constant patrol of the frontier's mid-rim, and has regularly scheduled fueling and maintenance breaks every other month on the planet Jantii, a neutral colony."

Briggs blinked at him blankly. _"And you know this ... how?"_

"It was the ship I served on," he said quietly. "Trust me—it will be there. Jantii is a popular refueling station for several frigates, but my former CO, Major Boyles, used to be particularly fond of it. Was closer than most to the patrol perimeter."

_"When will it be there next?"_

He thought about the timing, and did a few short calculations in his head based on how long he'd been with the Militia. "In roughly twelve days, give or take one or two."

She hummed and held her chin in thought. _"It's an opportunity for sure, one that we don't have much time to prepare for ... what if we miss the window you've given?"_

He clenched his jaw. "It would be another two months at least before we have a chance like this again, ma'am."

Briggs was silent for a long while, contemplating her options and weighing them against one another. _"On the one hand, trusting a former IMC with something like this is one hell of a gamble. On the other, such gambles have paid off in the past."_ She eyed him cautiously. _"My people's lives aren't something I take lightly, Pilot."_

"Of course, ma'am," he agreed. "That's why I'll be right there on the ground with them."

This time, it was Gates who did a double take. "Hang on—what?"

"I know that ship inside and out," he reasoned. "With me on the infiltration team, they'll be better informed and have a higher chance of success."

"A higher chance of you getting killed is more like it," Dimitri argued. "What is it with you and getting yourself into dangerous places?"

"Call it a character flaw," he said with a roll of his eyes. He looked back at Briggs. "You know I'm your best bet."

The commander hesitated before replying. _"You'd be risking a lot by being there. What if they were to recognize you?"_

He grimaced. He knew full well what they thought of deserters like him. "I don't have any family for them to go after. I'd only be endangering myself, and that's a risk I think is worth taking."

She regarded him with respect for a moment before reaching a verdict. _"Approval granted—but on one condition. I'm assigning you as a team leader."_

He blanched. "Wait, hold on—"

 _"_ ** _You_** _said you're my best bet,_ ** _you_** _proposed the mission,_ ** _you_** _take responsibility for the lives you're putting on that ship,"_ she said bluntly.

"What about my squad?"

_"Who's your leader again?"_

"Warrant Officer Vale, Foxtrot-Three of the SRS division."

Briggs nodded. _"Understood, can't have a conflict in the chain of command. Simple way to rectify that—as of this moment, you are hereby promoted to the rank of Chief Warrant Officer."_

He stood motionless, nonplussed by the commander's decision. She arched an eyebrow at his reaction. _"It's Four, right? Four, things move fast here on the frontier—blink, and you might miss them. After the intelligence and value you've provided to us, as well as your expertise concerning IMC matters, I'm willing to bypass a few formalities. You'll need people to listen to you if you're going to lead them. But if I'm going to agree to this, I need to know that you're someone I can count on not to miss things—is that clear?"_

He'd never expected to make it higher than a lance corporal—and here was the commander of the Militia's SRS division, speeding him through the ranks until he was one _higher_ than Vale. Clearly, the Militia weren't as preoccupied with regulations as the IMC were.

Then again, he could understand where she was coming from—at the end of the day, the Militia wasn't even a proper military force, let alone a recognized government. Their ranks and titles were effectively meaningless to anyone on the frontier aside from themselves—but that was exactly the point. These ranks, they weren't indicators of a pay grade or a level of education; they were measures of responsibility, of one's duty.

Briggs was putting her faith in him, faith that he could get the job done. It was a show of trust that he wasn't accustomed to from others in the Militia, and he knew that this wasn't an offer he could afford to waste.

He swallowed hard. "Yes, ma'am."

 _"Good."_ She glanced back at the 6-4. _"Gates, please keep him from doing anything too stupid."_

"I'm on it, ma'am."

The hologram winked out of existence, and Dimitri turned to face him.

"Four, what the hell have you just gotten us into?"

He had no answer for the man—right now, he was just focused on manually breathing, half afraid that he'd forget how to if he stopped.

_Chief Warrant Officer._

"I ... uh, have to go do something."

**...**

"KT!"

The Titan heard her Pilot call out to her, and turned around to locate him. He had just strolled into the hangar where he'd asked her to meet him, though, peculiarly, his familiar white armor was absent.

"Yes, Pilot?"

"C'mere, I got something to show you." Indeed, he held a package in his arms—a box that he set on the ground as she approached.

"Where is your armor?"

"Got it here in my hands. Part of what I wanted to show you." He opened the box, and lifted its contents up for her to see. It was a standard jumpsuit for Militia Pilots, steel blue in coloration aside from the dark padding, pouches, and chest plate that offered auxiliary protection.

"What do you think?"

She was silent for a moment. "Is that yours?"

Tobias nodded. "Apparently, I'm moving up in the Militia's ranks. I thought it might be good to look the part—I'm still keeping my helmet, though."

KT narrowed her optic. "But I am confused; would your other armor not give you better protection? It was crafted by the IMC, after all. The Militia's standards may have improved, but we do not possess the quality resources they do."

He nodded slowly. "No, you're right—it _would_ protect me better." He glanced up and met her gaze. "But it would also separate us."

"I do not understand."

"I'm your Pilot. You're my Titan. We're a team—and one half of the team shouldn't be sporting the enemy's colors." He came a bit closer. "I wanted to show you that I meant what I said earlier—I'm not going to abandon you. This armor isn't about protection; it's about showing you that we are _one."_

She blinked once. "You're doing this ... for _me?"_

He nodded slowly. "Yeah."

"Why?"

"Because you're more than my Titan—you're my friend. And I need you to know where I stand." He gave her a small smile. "You told me that you were afraid I might leave you—and I'm telling you that it's not gonna happen. You're part of my life now, whether you wanted it or not."

There were a few seconds before she spoke again, and the warmth in her voice was unlike any he'd heard in it before. "Thank you."

He nodded, then sighed tiredly as she looked on.

"Do you think we can do it, Kay?"

The Titan looked at him oddly. For a massive war machine, she was surprisingly capable of telegraphing her mood and expressions. "Are you asking me about the probable success of the mission? Or if we can win this war?"

He wasn't even surprised this time to find out she already knew of the upcoming assignment. He obviously needed to get better at filtering his neural-link. "Just the first one for now—let's focus on the bigger problem later."

KT considered it for a moment. "To be honest, it _is_ quite dangerous. Then again, most of your ideas are. Higher risk brings a higher chance for failure."

He nodded, accepting that.

"But ... I don't believe it will fail."

He glanced up at her. She looked at him and nodded with her optic. "The Militia has often utilized risky and dangerous plans in the past. Yours is no exception. But if there's one thing I trust about the plan... it is _you_ , Four. I trust you."

He smiled, and patted her on the leg appreciatively. "Thanks, Kay."

"Four!"

He turned to in surprise at the sudden mention of his name. He was greeted with the sight of the Heartless striding towards him, Vale in front followed by McFarlane on her left and Tyra on her right. "Oh, hey. I wasn't expecting—?"

He stopped at the sudden appearance of three mechs walking behind them; a charcoal-painted Ronin with golden highlights, a standard sand-dune colored Scorch, and the grey-and-green Atlas that he knew belonged to McFarlane. "Ah—these your Titans?"

Tyra was the first to respond, and gestured towards the Scorch. "I prefer to think of myself as a heavy hitter, and this guy hits even harder—that's what makes us such a great team. Say hello, Cee."

"Greetings, sir. I am CH-1134," the Scorch boomed in a deep baritone voice, maneuvering the various optics atop its chassis to look at him.

He nodded in acknowledgement, then turned to Vale. The simulacrum pointed up and behind her at the Ronin.

"This here is SKD-3812. We were each other's first, in a manner of speaking," she said with mischievous chuckle. "Linked nearly four years ago, and haven't been apart since." She made a motion with one of her metal hands bouncing off the other, like a rock skipping across a pond. "I call him Skids, on account of the fact that he sends his enemies' bodies skidding across the floor."

He wrinkled his nose at the statement. "That sounds like a line Tyra would make up, not you."

Vale laughed heartily. "She actually did. Truth is, on one of our earlier assignments, he was following behind me and skidded on a patch of ice. Fell right over. That little slip-up cost him his dignity and gave him his name."

"I'm standing right here," the Ronin said coolly.

"You've already met June here," McFarlane said, cutting in and waving at the Atlas. "JUN-1300, if you want to be formal."

"And despite what little imagination he used for his Titan's name, he seems to have quite the surplus when it comes to adding custom mods," Vale said teasingly. "Seriously, he spends more time tinkering with that chassis than he does interacting with people."

"People are hard to understand. Machines are simple."

"Never figured you for the mechanical type," Tobias said with surprise.

McFarlane eyed him with a playful glint in his eye. "And I didn't figure an ex-IMC could be so compassionate. Guess what they say about assumptions is true, huh?"

Tobias held a hand up in acceptance of the jab, then turned to Vale. "To what do I owe the pleasure, ma'am?"

"I don't think you have to address me as 'ma'am' anymore, Four," Vale said with a light tone. "Gates told us about your ... _accelerated_ promotion."

He grimaced. "Right—sorry. I swear, I never asked her for anything like that—"

"Oh, don't apologize," she said with a dismissive wave. "You're the one who's stuck with filing paperwork now. After-mission reports are the worst."

"What do you mean?"

"You weren't removed from Foxtrot-Three," McFarlane explained slowly. "But with you outranking Vale now ..."

Understanding dawned on him. "I'm not ... I'm not in charge, am I?"

"Ding, ding, ding!" Tyra chuckled, stepping forward and clapping him on the back. "Amelia, tell our contestant what he's won!"

"You are now the proud owner of three socially-dysfunctional Pilots!" Vale said in a startlingly accurate impersonation of a game show host. "All of their lives are now yours to command—"

"Stop," he said quietly. "Just ... stop. I don't want to order you three around—I don't want to order _anyone_ around."

"That's probably why Briggs thinks you'll be good at it," Vale admitted, becoming more serious. "I've found that the best leaders are those that don't want to lead—they aren't hungry for power, and that's why they're the safest to trust with it."

"But what if I screw up? What if someone winds up hurt—or worse, _dead—_ because of me?" He shook his head emphatically. "I ... I spent a lot of years putting myself first. I don't know that I'm the guy you want watching your backs."

Vale said nothing, taking the time to thoroughly examine his answer before replying. "Did I ever tell you how I became a simulacrum?"

Confused by the sudden tangent, he shook his head no.

"Almost two years ago," she began, "Skids and I were abducted by Vinson Dynamics, a company that often partners with the IMC. I was taken to a massive underground arena under the guise of a weapons-testing facility, and forced to fight for my life with a team I had never met before."

Her voice had lost all warmth in it, becoming cold and distant at the recollection. "We couldn't discriminate against others we killed—Militia, IMC, it didn't matter. Only one team ever made it out of those fights, and for weeks I was wondering if I'd ever survive."

Tobias remained silent the whole while, not sure what he'd even say if he had the chance to. She continued.

"Then, I was transferred to a new team and met someone. He was a simulacrum, and I was hesitant to trust him because of it. But slowly, as we became friends, he began to share his inner doubts with me—and I realized there was more to being human than simply flesh."

She stared directly into his eyes, preventing him from looking away. "He wasn't accustomed to having others depend on him either—in fact, he'd never wanted to be our leader in the first place. But it was because of him that any of us made it out alive—although, some of us came away worse than others."

At that, she looked down at her hand and flexed her robotic fingers. Then, she turned back to him. "You remind me of him—the same doubts, the same responsibility. But you also have the same strengths—ingenuity, empathy. Determination," she said, placing a finger on his chest and giving him a light shove.

"But how do I know that's enough?"

"You don't," she said simply, placing a hand on his shoulder. "As a leader, others are going to trust you to make choices—and choices aren't always fair. All you can do is trust in yourself the way others do ... and hope. No one can ask for more than that."

He couldn't say anything back in response to her due to the lump in his throat, but he nodded shakily and flashed her a quick smile.

"You know what all this bonding calls for?" Tyra suddenly called out, stepping forward and clapping both of them on their backs. "A picture! Nothing cements a good memory like a photo does."

"Oh boy, here she goes," McFarlane muttered in embarrassment.

She waved at a nearby MRVN, one of the automated robots that helped with maintenance. "Hey, blinky! Can you do us a favor please?"

After several minutes of tiresomely explaining exactly what they wanted it to do, it finally took a photo of the group from its ocular systems and provided a copy. Tobias lifted his arm up, and allowed his wrist-interface to project the image holographically in the air. The Heartless gathered around, admiring the photo; Pilots in front, Titans behind them.

Tobias looked at the image of himself next to McFarlane and Tyra, the latter lifting her arm up behind Vale's head and making a 'peace' sign, noticed the jovial smile featured on his face ... and felt something he hadn't in a long time.

A sense of belonging.


	13. The Kraken

The dropship broke Jantii's atmosphere, and descended through the clouds as the wind whistled by the viewport and doors. In this cramped of a space, the occupants aboard could practically feel the tension radiating off of one another.

Tobias looked at the others deploying with him in this ship; Tyra, Vale, and Gates. There were two other dropships with them, one of which carried Dimitri, Bear, and other Pilots that Gates had handpicked for the mission herself. McFarlane and Jax were with the last ship of Pilots and riflemen—

_"Man, that wind is messing with my nerves. It's not just me, right? Everyone else thinks that's ominous as hell too—right?"_

He heard the sudden transmission from a Pilot on the second ship, and watched as Gates held a hand to the side of her helmet with a growl.

"What's your name, Pilot?"

_"Davis, ma'am. Lance Corporal Davis."_

"Alright, well Briggs told us to pick you lot for your skills, _not_ for your mouth—so shut it!"

_"You got it."_

"Is he in your ship, Dee?"

Dimitri came onto the comms. _"Affirmative."_

"Well, if he opens his mouth again, you and Bear are welcome to personally remind him of my last order."

He heard Dimitri laugh as Bear's voice came onto the comms, also cheerful. _"Gladly, Captain!"_

She muted the connection, and faced Tobias with a low groan. "I had to fill out the roster with a few new faces—so let's hope that they know what they're doing."

Turning to the front of the ship, Gates yelled to the pilot, "How close are we to the coordinates?" They checked a readout on a nearby monitor.

"Fairly close ma'am, ETA two minutes. Be warned, there's a massive storm approaching; might make the drop a bit more interesting." It was true, they could all hear the slight creaking of the dropship as the elements began to more aggressively jostle it around.

Gates glanced over at Tobias, looking him up and down. "You ready?"

He nodded shakily, though he tried not to let her see his anxiety. Though he had faith in the operation as a whole, he had to admit that he wasn't entirely enthusiastic about their method of reaching the Kraken—in fact, he was downright terrified.

"KT, you there?"

_< Yes, Pilot. Standing by. >_

He breathed out. "Good. That's good. I don't want to be alone for this—you'll be here the whole way through?"

_< Through thick and thin. >_

"Thanks, because I get the feeling like we're about to have a lot of that."

The ships finally broke free of the clouds, and all the occupants were treated with the sight of a shadowy blue ocean below them, the only foreseeable land just a silhouette on the horizon, and a refueling depot right in the middle of the water. Dark clouds littered the sky, and one could see the occasional flash of lightning as the storm worsened. Rain pelted the windows, falling torrentially from the sky.

Situated next to the depot was the IMS Kraken. Rather than relying solely on thrusters and jets for in-atmosphere traversal, it was equipped with four massive rotating engine blades in cylindrical chutes on the four corners of the ship. He knew the reasoning for this—though expensive as hell to produce, the IMC had certainly created a warship that was just as capable and efficient in planetary atmospheres as it was out of them.

An alarm sounded in conjunction with a green light flashing, and the drop bay door opened.

_"Target reached, all teams deploy! Go, go, go!"_

All three teams leapt out of the ships and into the air, beginning their rapid descent. Tobias gritted his teeth as he streaked through the sky, the air screaming as he tore through it at terminal velocity.

_< Pilot, from your helmet feed, I've calculated that the best area to land would be here. >_

A little blue square appeared on his HUD near the center of the ship's top. It was far enough away from the bridge that they likely wouldn't be detected too early, but could maneuver into a better position when necessary.

"Oh, so _not_ in the giant spinning blades?"

_< Very funny. >_

He grinned, almost physically sensing her rolling her optics. He deferred to her advice, and aimed for the region she'd highlighted. He glanced around, looking for Gates, Vale, and Tyra as they fell. The others were spaced out a bit, and farther up in the sky—hopefully, they'd all manage to regroup quickly.

Gates spoke through the comms, _"Thrusters in three ... two ... MARK!"_

He activated his jump kit on the dot. It was amazing technology, to be able to take all this downward momentum and reverse it without any adverse effects to the user. He felt himself slow down considerably, and hover for a moment in the air. Then he dropped the remaining ten feet to the 'ground', if it could be called that.

"Alright, Team-A is clear. Just waiting on Team-B and ..." Gates stopped talking suddenly, and looked skyward. "... C." He followed her gaze, and realized why she'd fallen silent.

Team-B was nearing the ship, but Team-C was still approaching. As an unexpected gust of powerful wind picked up, one of them was thrown off course.

_"Jenkins, correct your course! Now, damn it, NOW!"_

_"I'm trying, it just won't—"_

The man didn't even have time to scream as he fell straight into one of the rotor blades that adorned the ship. Red, viscous blood sprayed in every direction, but no chunks of meat flew out; he'd been effectively vaporized.

Tobias felt his gut clench a bit. "God ..."

Gates beckoned the survivors over, acting quickly. "Hurry! There's no way they didn't detect that—"

On cue, alarms began to ring, piercing the air with their shrill cries.

_< Pilot? What's going on? >_

Upon hearing the whirr of machinery behind him, he turned around to see a hole opening in the top of the ship. He knew exactly what that door was.

"Oh, _shit."_

Gates looked at him. "What?"

"That lift leads straight to the hangar—normally, it's used for loading cargo, but it can be used for reinforcements to combat invaders ... like us."

Indeed, the cargo lift's platform came up the shaft; on it were several grunts and two sterile white Titans, a Legion and an Atlas.

_< Four! Talk to me! >_

"Kay, things are a bit hectic right now!" He waved to everyone and pointed towards the rear of the ship. "Get to cover!"

The top of the ship was a rather open space—but fortunately, there were many ridges and external vents that provided enough cover for their needs, and the teams all scrambled to get out of the Titans' view.

"This is Sergeant Pierce, we've got Militia on the ship's exterior! I repeat, Militia are on the ship's exterior!" he heard one of the grunts yell into his radio. The Titans moved forward a few steps to begin attacking, but were forced back by the magnetic grenade-launchers and charge rifles that the Militia had brought for such a situation. In turn, the IMC riflemen began to fire at the Pilots in the hopes of breaking their defense.

Tobias slid into cover alongside Gates, ducking down as a hail of bullets whistled by. She looked at him, her chest heaving. "You know, I'm starting to doubt your skills as a strategist!"

"So am I!" he shot back. The slight humor of the moment was wiped as another round of projectiles peppered the pipe they hid behind, and showered them with sparks.

"We're not going to get anywhere close to the bridge with this much resistance!" she shouted, holding her weapon up above her and firing blindly back at them. "We need a new plan!"

He racked his brain for options, then groaned as one came to him. "Alright, I've got an idea—but you're not gonna like it."

"Anything's better than being a sitting duck!"

She had a point. Opening his comm channel to the whole squad, he glanced off to his left where Tyra, Vale, and McFarlane were crouching behind a vent. "Vale, this is Four—I need you guys to focus on these Titans!" He saw the simulacrum look around for him, then shoot her hand exasperatedly to the side.

_"And how exactly are we supposed to do that?"_

"I'm going to even the playing field," he answered, pointing at the sky. She looked up, realized what he meant, then flashed him a thumbs up.

_"Reading you loud and clear!"_

"Wait until my mark, I'll make the call—everyone else, back them up! We'll need to hold off the enemy here, this is our only extraction point!"

He looked up at the clouds above which the Militia frigate was hidden, safely looking down on them from low orbit. "This is Warrant Officer Four of the ground team, I am requesting four titanfalls—serial designations are SKD-3812, CH-1134, JUN-1300 and KT-0298!"

_"Request acknowledged—standing by for titanfall on your command."_

He spoke a bit quieter, switching his comms once more. "Kay, you ready?"

_< On your word. >_

He nodded, and turned to Gates. "Follow me, don't get shot."

She snorted derisively. "As if I was planning on it!"

Peeking around the edge of the pipe, he finally yelled, "MARK!" and stepped out of cover.

Several things happened at once.

First, the Titans took notice of him and Gates running towards them and the cargo lift. They hefted their guns, and prepared to fire.

Secondly, a flash of light lit up in the sky as the four Titans that he'd called in broke the atmosphere and hurtled down to the top of the ship below.

Under normal circumstances, any object with the mass and velocity of a titanfall would have gone right through the ship and likely killed everyone aboard. Luckily, as with the scenario on Tyche, there were precedents in place to prevent that. It was only because of such advancements in technology that the Titans did not completely obliterate the hull of the ship, and send it sinking into the depths below with all hands. Instead, they landed in a defensive line between the IMC forces and the Militia.

Finally, the rest of the Heartless sprinted out of cover to eagerly hop into their respective Titans, and hastily embarked. After a moment, the Ronin, Scorch, and Atlas all turned to face the two IMC Titans who now seemed to be a bit unsure of themselves.

Tobias saw KT standing next to them and watching him as he and Gates charged ahead. "KT, help them and defend this point!" he ordered. "I'll be back as soon as I can!"

_< Understood, Pilot! Stay safe. >_

Sliding forward, they ran around the Legion and Atlas that had come under fire from the new arrivals, too preoccupied with being so suddenly outnumbered that they paid the two Pilots no mind.

Sliding forward and onto the cargo lift, Tobias slammed his hand down on the platform's controls, triggering it to lower back down into the Kraken's hangar. Gates jumped onto it next to him, and breathlessly said, "There were supposed to be _twelve_ of us, not two! How the hell are we going to pull this off?"

He frowned under his helmet, asking himself the same question. "We'll find a way. We have to."

Gates tilted her head. "I don't know if you're just excessively optimistic, or completely lack common sense."

"Thanks for the encouragement."

"That wasn't my intent at all."

Finally, the platform exited the central shaft and continued to lower to the floor of the hangar many meters below. He smacked her shoulder, and pointed out a door at the far end. "That way is to the bridge!"

"I don't see how we're going to get there with a hangar full of IMC in our way," chastised Gates. As she spoke, the aforementioned IMC forces on the ground took notice of the lift as it descended, and began to point at them. Time to move.

"Yeah, change of plan—follow me!" Without waiting for her reply, he dove off the lift and into the throngs of enemies below. Unhooking a canister from his belt, he tossed it into the middle of the floor and watched them explode into dense clouds of smoke. There was immediate confusion as many of the IMC soldiers spun wildly around trying to regain sight of him.

Sliding forward through the fog, he lifted his Flatline and aimed at a particular spot through the smoke—a spot which he was trying to precisely recall from his memory of the ship's layout. Pulling his trigger, he emptied the entire magazine and noted the frightened cries of riflemen around him as they heard the gunfire. A quick glance behind him confirmed that Gates was still following him closely, so he took the opportunity to reload.

Reaching the far wall and sticking a leg out to brace himself, he breathed a sigh of relief as he saw his target; a vent cover which had broken apart after being riddled with bullets, revealing an opening behind it.

He heard movement next to him as Gates slid into position next to him. "A maintenance shaft?"

"Yeah. These shafts run all over the ship's framework so that the engineers can fix any ventilation problems—and there are plenty, thanks to the added complications of the rotor blades," he explained. "Jospert—er, my friend and I realized that there's one fatal flaw with them; a certain person, say, a Militia Pilot, could use them to work their way up to the bridge nearly undetected from anywhere on the ship, and nobody would be the wiser."

He coughed slightly, and continued, "But we didn't exactly feel like voicing our concerns to Major Boyles, so ..."

Gates turned to him, seemingly impressed, and chuckled. "Of course not. Well, if you have any concerns about flaws like this in _our_ ships, by all means—please voice them."

"You got it," he agreed, then looked back at the hangar where the smoke was starting to dissipate. "Crap, we're running out of time." Holding a hand towards the opening, he gestured for her to enter.

"Ladies first?"


	14. A Sinking Feeling

KT was not happy.

First off, she was going into battle without her Pilot. It was necessary, yes, but that didn't make it feel any less unpleasant. For the duration of the mission, she'd likely be concerned for his safety, analyzing chances of his survivability, and generally be slightly more inefficient than she would be if her processors were completely focused on the task at hand.

Now, she was trying to hold off wave after wave of IMC coming up the lift to take back control of the top of the Kraken. The Militia were fighting valiantly, but they'd already lost several Pilots despite her and the other Titans' best efforts.

 _"You're doing great, ladies!"_ a voice said over the comms, prompting Vale to turn Skids around and face the Pilots while blocking with the Ronin's enormous sword.

"Davis, your mouth is supposed to be shut if I recall correctly!"

"6-4, you're far more experienced than the other Pilots," KT said over the comms, catching a burst of gunfire with her vortex shield as she did so. "We would appreciate your support in assisting up front!"

 _"Not a problem,"_ Dimitri responded, turning and rallying the other freelancers forward. _"Come on!"_

Dimitri, Bear, and Jax all ran up to the frontline with Anti-Titan weapons equipped. Over on the right, Tyra and CH were fighting the Atlas. As it stepped slightly too close, the Scorch lunged and hooked an arm around the enemy's shoulder. Then with its other hand, it produced a fiery shield that burned away its shielding and melted the protective casing of the Atlas' chassis.

"If you can't take the heat, then get the hell out!" Tyra feistily yelled through her Titan's speakers, and promptly threw the now helpless Titan off the side of the Kraken and into the depths of the ocean below.

KT decided to try and raise Four. "Pilot, where are you?" She would have patched herself into his helmet's video feed, but there was already too much to concentrate on for her to risk such a divide in attention.

_"Gates and I are in a maintenance shaft and moving slowly towards the bridge. We're both safe."_

Spinning around quickly, she held her vortex shield out as the Legion fired a blast of shrapnel at her. Running out of energy in her system's pool, she refocused her aim and released the shield, directing everything she'd collected back at some riflemen who were standing near the lift. Several of them flew back many meters from the impact while others simply exploded into pieces where they stood, sliced apart by the metal.

"Understood. Protocol two: uphold the mission."

_"That's right. I know it's not what we originally planned, but we've had to improvise and go for a more stealthy approach. I'll update you when we get to the bridge."_

She looked back in time to see Vale phase shift right through the Legion, and appear behind it. As it searched around for her in bewilderment, Vale drew her sword, impaled the Titan from behind, and then dragged it upwards to cut through the cockpit. The Legion's carcass fell lifelessly to the ground, no longer a threat.

_"Call the extraction team quickly, and request a few Widows- you and the other Titans should be able to make it out of here on those. Then get the rest of the Pilots to safety, they're not doing much besides dying up there."_

"Understood, Pilot."

He cut the link just before the cargo lift came back up, this time with a Tone and a Northstar. She quickly waved the other Pilots back, and held her vortex shield out again. "Call down the extraction team! You need to evacuate!"

She looked back as the new Titans took aim at her and the rest of Foxtrot-Three, now preparing to defend the extraction point with their lives. "I hope you hurry, pilot."

Suddenly, the Kraken lurched a great deal to one side, and she found herself sliding a bit towards one edge of the ship. McFarlane clamped June's clawed feet into the metal hull for stability, and Vale had to thrust her sword into it and hold on until the ship righted itself again. Now, however, there was a rumbling and sensation of motion that hadn't been there before.

Peering over the ledge, KT glanced below and froze in shock at what she saw.

"Oh, this isn't good."

**...**

Tobias and Gates analyzed the bridge from the vent above, figuring out how to proceed. Thankfully, Gates was a seasoned veteran and this was somewhat her field of expertise.

"Alright, so we hit those two on the left while those three are stunned, and once they're out of commission we can move on to the terminal." She shook her head in disbelief. "I'm surprised that it's not more heavily guarded."

"Anyone they can spare must be in the hangar trying to retake the top of the ship," he theorized quietly. "I don't think that they know our plan yet-"

With a massive groan, the Kraken shifted and pitched hard enough to slam him and Gates into the wall of the shaft they were crouching in. Scrambling to his hands and knees, he connected to his neural link once more.

"KT, what the hell's going on?!"

_< The Kraken's captain has rightly assumed that we are trying to extract our pilots. They are taking proper measures to ensure that we do not escape. >_

"And what would those measures be?"

_< The ship has taken off; we are now airborne over the ocean and moving at a speed exceeding ninety knots. >_

He swore. "Well... shit."

Gates was less than reassured by his reaction. "Is it leaving atmosphere?"

He shook his head hurriedly. "No, we interrupted their refueling process. They can't break orbit without reserves, so they'll have to return to the depot- but it could be awhile, and that's time we can't afford to let them have." He weighed their options carefully, but didn't see more than one viable path forward.

"Alright- KT, start feeding the extraction team our current coordinates as they change. It's gonna be damn difficult for them to keep up with the Kraken under fire, but if you and the other Titans can defend them, they should be able to get everyone out of here."

_< I'm beginning to think you have an obsession with danger. >_

Satisfied that she'd relay his orders, he pointed down into the room below them. "Gates, we have to do this now. Like, _now_."

She nodded, readying her R-201. "On your mark."

He held up three fingers, and began putting them down. _Three ... two ... one ..._

He made a fist, and they both kicked the vent cover open. Falling to the floor, none of the IMC soldiers had a chance to register what was happening before bullets were punching through the armor of the three near the top of a set of stairs that led to the ship's navigational console. The two nearest the door turned around in surprise only to meet the same fate that the other three had, and in less then five seconds everyone in the room was dead.

Well, almost everyone.

A balding man in a grey officer's uniform stood up from behind the bridge's holo-table which he'd been taking cover behind. Tobias recognized him, and felt his hold over the Flatline's grip waver ever so slightly.

"Major Boyles."

The Major narrowed his eyes. "How do you know me?"

Tightening his fingers, he gestured at him with the barrel of the gun. "Back against the wall."

Gates walked up the steps to the main console, and stuck her data-knife in it. She watched as the computer processed the intrusion, figuring out how to respond to the foreign authorization.

Boyle scoffed in outrage. "Goddamn terrorist! Where do you get the gall to issue me orders-"

"I said, _back against the wall,"_ Tobias growled through his teeth, jabbing his former CO none too gently. It seemed that the Major finally understood the gravity of the situation, and complied with his hands held high.

"We've got a problem!" Gates called down to him. "The terminal is rejecting my attempts to access it!"

"New security measure protocols from Spyglass himself," Boyles said with a grin. "Thanks to your many raids on our research centers, we've grown wise to your brutish methods. Only an authorized IMC individual can access it-"

Gates' pistol was in her hand before he could finish his sentence. "Open it!"

"I think not," he replied curtly. "I'd rather die than betray my men, and glad that I did so protecting them." He leered at her. "Can you say the same?"

"Actually, I can," she spat back. Facing Tobias, she shook her head hopelessly. "We're out of time, we need to get the hell out of here."

"Not yet," he muttered, walking up the steps and holstering the Flatline on his back. "Watch him."

"What are you doing?" she questioned, boggled at his blatant disregard for what she'd said. "Didn't you hear me? We can't just go back and find another IMC Pilot in the hangar-"

"Then it's a good thing we brought one," he cut her off, reaching the terminal and sticking his own knife in. The terminal took a moment to acknowledge the new hardware.

**_USER_ID / PASSWORD_ **

Quickly, he typed in his credentials. It had been months since he'd last used them, but he assumed he'd been listed as MIA by the Kraken- so assuming that they hadn't disabled his codes yet ...

_four.tobias / loneknight21_

**_AUTHORIZED_ **

The Major looked on in shock as Tobias was granted access to the terminal's data-base, and immediately began sifting through its contents. At last, he seemed to guess his captor's nature. "You're a deserter, aren't you? That's how you recognized me."

Tobias remained silent, still searching for any information on their target-

"I think I remember you. Your voice was familiar, but it escaped me until now." He furrowed his brow. "You were on the Nedar operation, weren't you? The one where our evacuation ship was destroyed-"

He clenched his jaw, a minute movement that the Major caught.

"So that's it? Yes, I know you, I had to fill out your name with the others in the reports- Thomas? Wait- no, it was Tobias, wasn't it? PFC Tobias Four. Pilot trainee." He nodded his head. "I'm right, aren't I?"

"What of it?" Tobias growled.

"Honestly, I'm more curious than anything. I wouldn't say we knew each other exceptionally well, but we'd certainly had a conversation or two." He tilted his head. "I distinctly remember your hatred of the Militia- I was actually quite impressed with your goal of eradicating them entirely, as you claimed on one occasion. It seems that a lot has changed."

"Shut up."

"What could possibly have happened to turn you away from such a promising career in the IMC?" Boyle's asked, making several _tsk_ sounds. "Better pay, perhaps? If that's the case, surely you can be reasoned with-"

"They gave me a purpose," he answered shortly, his patience wearing thin. He entered the same directory Vale had accessed back on Tyche, the ARES Division's Special Projects database. He scrolled through the information until he found Project: Atlantis-

"And what purpose might that be?" the Major taunted with a scowl. "Assaulting those you once called your allies, betraying those you'd once fought and killed for? You think that makes you a hero? Quite the moral code you follow-"

"He said _shut up,"_ Gates iterated, aiming the P2016 once more. Concentrating, Tobias tried to pick apart any new information from anything they already knew. He was getting a little desperate, however, as nothing stood out that could give them a clue as to where the weapon might-

_For studies related to Project: Atlantis, see [Research Site M31]_

His eyes widening, he opened the suggested page and found what he was looking for.

**_RESEARCH_SITE_M31 LOC. / EREBUS_ **

Boyles looked Gates up and down as she held the gun out at him. "Perhaps it's _not_ the Militia that gave you a purpose, hmm? Perhaps a certain someone swayed you to their cause?" The Major's eyes lingered just long enough on Gates to make her less than comfortable. "Of course, if she's as _equipped_ as she is charming, it's no surprise you turned traitor-"

Boyles wasn't able to finish his sentence as a flurry of bullets punched through his chest. His eyes widened in pain as he fell back against the wall, sliding down and staring up at Tobias who was holding the Flatline once more, its barrel smoking.

"I'm not a hero," he said quietly. "I'm just done being the villain."

With that, Boyles' head fell to the side, and he moved no more. Gates looked up at him.

"Four? You okay?"

"Don't worry about me." He made a dismissive motion with his hand; he had work to do. "Get out of here, and make your way back to the extraction point, I've got this."

She was taken aback by his sudden order. "What? Not a chance _-_ "

"It only takes one of us to sort through these files, and I know the IMC systems better than you do," he said more harshly than he'd intended. "There's no need to risk both of our lives, I'll join you as soon as I'm finished. Now go!"

She was silent for several seconds, working his logic through her head before finally conceding with a sigh. "You better be at that dropship- if you die, I'm gonna kick your ass."

"You're the only person I'd believe could make good on that threat," he murmured as she turned and left.

**...**

The roar of the dropships split the air as they arrived, and KT was relieved to see several Widows in their midst, the only dropships big enough to carry the Titans. The doors on their sides opened, and technicians within beckoned the survivors over.

Dimitri held his hand up to his helmet. "Anyone not part of the 6-4 or in a Titan, get out of here!" He ducked to avoid another shot from the Tone, as neither of the new IMC Titans had yet been neutralized. The Militia forces all heeded his command and began to evacuate, save for two.

"You're not getting rid of us that easily, sir!"

Dimitri looked back and shook his head at the sight of two Pilots standing behind him with their weapons at the ready. "Davis, I'm not sure whether to commend you or throttle you." He waved the dropship off, signaling them to go before they took any significant fire. "If you're staying, help the Titans cover the right flank! That Northstar is giving us a hard time!"

"You got it!" the Pilot agreed, waving for his companion to follow him. "C'mon, Droz!"

"Foxtrot-Three! As soon as the next Widow is in position, get on it! Our window's getting real tight here!" No response was heard, but acknowledgement lights from them winked green on everyone's HUD, a sign that they understood. He looked over at KT who was covering the left flank with June.

"KT, where's your damn Pilot? We're running out of time!"

She had no answer for him, and that was starting to worry her.

Suddenly, a ventilation shaft's cover broke off several meters to Dimitri's right, and Gates tumbled out. He quickly rushed to her aid and pulled her into cover. "Captain! You alright?"

"I'm fine," she answered dismissively, analyzing their surroundings. "Is everyone safe?"

"The other Pilots have already evacuated, yes- but we need to leave now! Where's Four?"

"He's grabbing the data! He said he'd make it-"

Dimitri poked his head out slightly, ducking back behind cover when a bullet grazed the metal next to him. "Dammit, we don't have time to sit around and wait for him! He'll have to take care of himself!" Raising an arm into the air, he waved to the others around them. "Get your asses to the dropship unless you want to be left behind!"

KT found herself unsure of what to do. She'd just been given a direct order to evacuate, but ...

_Protocol three: protect the pilot._

The second Widow's door opened, and the remaining Pilots entered into a sprint for safety. Bear and Jax jumped and weaved through the air as they tried to disengage from fighting the Northstar- unfortunately, it had other plans.

Lining its railgun up, it timed Jax's next jump perfectly and launched a round at him just as he reached the peak of his leap. One moment, Jax was there- the next, he wasn't. It was as though he had simply ceased to exist.

"JAX!" Bear witnessed the death of his friend, but was grabbed by Dimitri and forced towards the Widow before he could make any rash decisions.

"He's gone, there's nothing you can do!"

The Titans had no such limitation, however. McFarlane ran up to the Northstar before it could reload, and yanked the Titan's arm off. Its other hand scrabbled at its empty socket, only for McFarlane to use its arm as a battering ram and smack it off the side of the Kraken. Its thrusters sputtered and died, leaving it no means with which to save itself from a watery grave.

KT watched him run back to the others, rejoining them on the Widow as Captain Gates beckoned for her to follow. In that moment, she felt something ... strange. A feeling she hadn't really felt before- like a blaze of fire had suddenly been lit within her.

_I am not losing another Pilot._

**...**

"Come on, come on ..." Tobias muttered to himself as he switched gears and accessed the Kraken's navigational database instead. Research Site M31 was apparently somewhere called 'Erebus', and he was hoping that such a site was under Spyglass's purview ...

 _"Four! Where are you?!"_ He cringed at the anger in Gates' voice as she screamed in his ear.

"It's almost done, it's-" His data-knife's handle light winked blue, and stopped flashing digits; it had found a match and downloaded it. He quickly yanked the knife out and sheathed it. "I just finished, I'm on my way!"

" _Our second dropship has already left, and the third has to double back around! You have to be at the extraction point in two minutes!"_

_I can make that work._

He was about to jump back into the vent above with his jump-kit when a sudden sound caught his attention- a communications alert from the main console. He looked back at one of the screens, and paled at what he saw.

"Shit."

_"What's 'shit', what do you mean 'shit'?"_

"The bridge contacted other nearby IMS ships for help before we made it here," he said, stepping away from the console. "They've almost arrived- they'll be on top of us in just a minute or two."

_"Then you better move your ass-"_

"You don't understand," he cut her off. "Our frigate's in danger, they'll go after it if they detect it-"

He stopped as an idea came to him. "Unless ... unless they're too preoccupied with something else."

Reaching down to check his gear, he was satisfied when he found two satchel charges in a pouch. "Alright, change of plans." Grunting, he jumped up towards the vent and pulled himself into it. Hurriedly, he crawled his way back towards the top of the Kraken.

_"No, there will be NO change of plans. Just get your ass onto that ship-"_

"If those frigates catch up to us, we're all dead!" he argued. After a bit of navigating, he finally saw light at the end of the shaft. It seemed that the cover had already been removed, meaning this was likely the same escape route Gates had taken. "I'm on the hull now, I'm going to give them something else to occupy their time."

_"Four, don't you dare-"_

He terminated the connection, deciding instead to focus on the task at hand. Sprinting to the forward port-side rotor blade, still propelling the ship forward across the water, he reached into his pouch and pulled out one of the charges. Carefully he stuck it on the side of the blade's cylindrical housing-

_Boom._

He felt the abnormal vibration in the floor beneath him just as he was reaching for the second charge. Hurriedly, he yanked it out and threw it onto the center of the blade itself, noting its tar-like adhesion sticking to the top of the hub.

_Boom. BOOM._

Spinning around, he found himself facing a Tone barreling towards him. He quickly dove out of the way as it smashed a fist into the spot where he'd been standing a moment before.

"Where do you think you're going?" a woman's voice taunted him, the Pilot inside taking another swing at him on the ground. He just barely activated his thrusters in time to avoid being turned into mush.

_"Chief Four, this is dropship 45-46, thirty seconds out."_

He heard the approaching dropship pilot over the comms as he ducked to avoid another swipe from the Titan. Evidently, she didn't have any ammo, or she'd have shot him a long time ago. He fumbled for the remote detonator on his belt-

With surprising speed, the Tone swooped down and grabbed him by the arm, lifting him off the ground. To his despair, the detonator flew out of his hand and skittered several meters away to rest against a bulkhead fitting.

The Tone held him up in front of its optics. Having now been grabbed by an enemy Titan twice, he couldn't say that the experience was improving.

"You're not getting away that easily," its Pilot snarled at him, beginning to tighten its fingers. He could feel his bones cracking under the pressure, and he cried out in agony.

"After everything you've done, I'm going to enjoy watching you _pop-"_

_"Don't you touch him, you bitch!"_

The Tone had but a second to turn towards the voice before a large metal fist landed squarely in its optics and sent it reeling. Likewise, he had barely enough time to register the utterly bewildering realization that KT had just cussed the Tone out before he fell to the floor.

_"Chief Four, dropship 45-46 has arrived!"_

Gripping his arm, he yelled into the comms, "Open your starboard door, and pull up alongside the Kraken! Things are about to get hectic!"

He looked around wildly before he spotted the detonator several meters away. As he sprinted towards it, he was knocked aside by a backhand strike from the Tone. It tried to finish the job, but was tackled by KT. Sparks went flying as they skidded across the surface of the hull, both Titans wrestling with one another for control. He weakly picked himself up and covered the rest of the distance to the detonator.

He scooped it off the ground, and looked for KT. He caught sight of her near the edge of the ship, dangerously close to falling off entirely. She had ended up underneath the Tone, and was holding her arms up to defend herself from the latter's pummeling blows. He gritted his teeth.

"KT, hold onto something!"

Tobias watched as one of her arms scrabbled to find purchase, and finally grabbed a studded pipe that ran along the hull. "Why? What are you doing?!"

He pulled the trigger.

There was an immediate explosion as the satchel charges in the rotor blades blew up, and the mechanism was completely mangled. As the Kraken had built up a fair amount of momentum, all of it was now forced onto its port side, and the ship wrenched itself around that corner of the ship as though it had become anchored to its position in midair.

He searched madly for a handhold, and found the slightest grip in a thin seam as the Kraken began spinning counter-clockwise rapidly. It tilted downward towards the broken engine, and he felt his muscles straining to retain their grip.

The Tone tried desperately to hold onto KT, but the Ion kicked it away and sent it spinning into the open air where it hung for a moment before the far side of the ship made a complete revolution and obliterated it. With that problem out of the way, she looked to where Tobias was trying his damnedest to avoid being thrown off.

"Hold on, Four!"

"That's the idea!" he shouted back shrilly, but he could feel himself slipping. With each revolution, his fingers became weaker, and weaker-

The force was too much for him to handle, and he yelled out as his hands fell away. He felt himself hurling backwards through the air, tumbling head over heels-

He heard a scrape of metal against metal, and saw KT leap from her spot towards him. Quickly grabbing a new handhold with her left arm, she extended her right with hand outstretched, and he felt himself land in her grip.

"I've got you!"

Hastily, she raised him to her chest, and opened her hatch to allow him entry before closing once more. Usually, this was where he'd take over, but he didn't want to risk a neural transition while their lives were in KT's grip- literally.

_"Sir? Are you still with us?"_

Through KT's ocular systems, he noticed the Widow hovering in place a close distance from the Kraken as it continued to spin, trying to avoid being struck out of the air. "Hold position immediately! KT, I need you to start running calculations on when you have to let go in order to slingshot us into the dropship!"

_"My auditory sensors must be malfunctioning- did you just say slingshot?"_

"You heard me! We need to land safely inside-"

_"Define 'safely'."_

_"Not dead!_ Just do it!"

There was a moment's pause, and all he could hear was the scream of the wind as it split around them. _"Calculations complete. I trust you."_

He exhaled deeply, his adrenaline rising. "That makes one of us. Do it!"

They made another half-revolution before KT released her grip. They were sent spinning off wildly, no control over their movements as they were flung out over the ocean-

Their tumbling came to an abrupt halt as they hit the inside of the Widow with a resounding slam. Despite the intense flash of pain in that instant, Tobias felt more relief than anything.

"Get us out of here!" he yelled, watching as the doors closed on the sight of the Kraken crashing into the ocean. His body and hands shook from the primal fear of surrendering his life to the whims of his Titan's calculations and sheer luck.

_"Tobias, are you alright?"_

He heard KT's question him out of concern, and he let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding.

"We barely made it out of that one, huh?"

 _"Thanks to your quick thinking, yes,"_ she agreed with a synthetic sigh. _"I'm glad you're safe."_

He patted the armrest of the cockpit with an unsteady hand, then regretted it as he realized it was the arm the Tone had broken. "The feeling is mutual, Kay. You were supposed to evac with everyone else- why'd you stay?"

"I'm not going to abandon you," she spoke softly. "As you said; we are one."

In spite of everything they'd just been through, he smiled. "You got that right."


	15. Paradigm Shift

**_Four's Logbook_ **

_I'll be frank; I'm in a lot of pain as I record this, so maybe I'm not thinking too clearly—but I feel like I have to get some final thoughts down on the off-chance that Gates actually snaps and kills me._

_See, I've got a big problem. What I did was necessary—as we speak, the other IMS ships are attempting to salvage the Kraken and evacuate all hands before they drown. That means that we have enough time to make it to our_ **** _frigate and get the hell out of the system. But as far as Gates knows, I disobeyed a direct order, terminated our comlink connection, and possibly died. I'm sure that there'll be hell to pay when I get back._

_Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned._

**—X—**

The Widow opened its massive doors, and allowed KT to exit.

Upon setting foot in the hangar, she immediately opened her hatch. Tobias tried to step neatly out of the cockpit, and promptly fell to the floor.

"Pilot?"

KT noticed his fall, and quickly assessed him for damage. "Are you alright?"

He waved her away with one arm while he used to the other to support his body, keeping himself from completely crumpling to the ground. "I'm fine, just... just need a breather. Give... give me a minute." It felt like his lungs were aflame, burning a little hotter each time he took a breath.

The Titan obliged, and stood watch over him, monitoring him for further bouts of pain. They weren't alone, however—the sound of angry footsteps was growing closer, and he looked up to see a familiar freelance Pilot making her way towards him.

This wasn't going to be fun.

"If you weren't in such a right state, I'd be kicking your ass up and down the hangar." She came to a stop in front of him, and crossed her arms menacingly. "What the hell were you thinking, pulling a stunt like that? Cutting off communications, disobeying—"

"Technically, I was a team leader," he groaned, holding a finger up. "So I can't have disobeyed orders—"

"You're not getting off on a technicality," she seethed.

"We needed a distraction," he explained, his chest and arm flaring with pain again. "Sinking the K-Kraken was meant to buy us time to escape."

A small amount of venom disappeared from her voice. "So your plan to throw them off our scent was to sink an entire IMS frigate?"

"Hey, it w-worked, right?"

She gave a low sigh of consternation as he reached to his sheath and retrieved his data-knife. He pressed it into her hand. "Here—I g-got what I could from their navigational directory. Something about ... Erebusss ..."

His speech slowed, and his words began to slur together. She crouched down to his level, and placed a hand on his shoulder to steady him. "You alright, Four?" she asked a bit more softly, her anger changing to concern. "Seriously, don't bullshit me."

He was trying to come up with a witty remark when another wave of pain and nausea hit him, and he slumped over onto the floor.

Gates quickly turned to a crowd of riflemen standing nearby. "Get a medic immediately! We have wounded!" Her shouting jolted several of them into action, and they ran off to get help. She turned back to him.

"Just hold tight for a few minutes, okay? Medics are coming, you're going to be fine."

He gave no verbal response, but gave her a weak thumbs up from where he was lying on the ground. His eyes were half-lidded, and she felt a considerable pang of worry shoot through her.

_Why do I care so much about you?_

She squeezed his shoulder reassuringly, then stood up again. There were other things that demanded her attention; namely, the unknown Pilots standing behind her with Dimitri and Bear. "You two. Front and center."

It took them a moment to realize she was speaking to them, but once they did they hastily moved and stood at attention. She looked at the one on the left.

"Davis, right?" She bobbed her head towards her second-in-command. "Dee here told me that you and your friend here went against orders to evacuate—is that right?"

He swallowed hard, and nodded. "Yes, ma'am. Lance Corporal Davis, at your service."

She gave a small hum of thought, then glanced at the other. "And you are?"

"Droz, ma'am," he said just as nervously. "Petty Officer Droz, second class."

She nodded. "Well, I'd wager that you'll likely be reprimanded for your decision by the higher-ups. They don't like their soldiers disobeying orders, especially not on _sensitive operations,"_ she stressed, making a quick glance down at Tobias. They nodded dejectedly in acceptance as she clasped her hands behind her back.

"But ... as the 6-4 is a freelance unit, I can't carry such disciplinary actions out. What I _can_ do is thank you, and commend you for your bravery. Without your help defending the evacuating Pilots, we likely would have lost more lives than we did—those men owe you, as do we."

They seemed to be at a loss for words as the revelation that they _weren't_ being punished made itself apparent. Davis stood himself up straighter, and gave a small cough. "T-Thank you, ma'am."

"It's _Captain_ to you."

"You got it, Cap'n."

She crossed her arms again, seemingly in thought. "If you and Droz were interested in finding work as part of a freelance team ... I've got an open mind when it concerns the 6-4."

They wore expressions as though she had suggested they'd just singlehandedly won the war. The two of them stared at each other, nonplussed, and then turned back to her. Droz nodded. "That sounds like an excellent idea, Captain."

She nodded. "I'll tell command that I'm considering commandeering two of their Pilots. Now, get out of here."

The two gave her a crisp salute, then walked away, talking excitedly to one another as a medical team finally arrived. They surrounded Tobias, but were hesitant to move any further upon seeing the protective stance that KT was taking, standing over him and watching everyone else with a narrowed optic.

Gates saw this, and waved gently at her. "KT, it's alright. Ease up."

The Titan seemed to realize how she looked as she guarded him, and moved away enough to let the medics through. Now clear to work, they loaded him onto a stretcher, and carried him towards the direction of the infirmary.

KT watched them take him with that same peculiar feeling that she'd experienced back on the Kraken—some strange spark of emotion igniting deep within her.

_Why do I care so much about you?_

**...**

He opened his eyes.

His mind felt noticeably more alert than earlier, though there was a dull numbness that ran throughout the rest of his body. Taking the opportunity to investigate his surroundings, he believed he was in the medical wing—unless there was some _other_ section of the ship that was sterile white and smelled faintly of alcohol. It was empty save for a few other beds at the far end of the room with their curtains drawn up.

He detected movement in his peripheral view, and with a start he realized that he wasn't alone. Leaning against the left side of his bed was Gates, her helmet sitting on her lap instead of her head where it usually sat. Behind loose strands of hair, her eyes seemed to be watching him very carefully.

Upon seeing he was awake, she snorted. "Have you always had a knack for getting yourself into dangerous situations?"

He shrugged. "Like I said before, it's a flaw of mine."

She tracked the length of his body. "You have a fractured ulna in your right arm, and your humerus is bruised. Hairline fractures on sets nine, ten, and eleven of your ribs, and the docs think you might have a concussion." She shook her head in disbelief. "Overall, could be worse—but it could sure be a hell of a lot better too."

He winced as she read off his injuries, knowing full-well that he'd be out of commission for a while with a list like that.

She exhaled shakily. "You know, you had me worried when you cut your comlink." She stared at him emptily. "We lost Jax."

He felt like he'd swallowed a clump of sand. "Gates, I'm so sorry—"

"Other Pilots too, good ones." She lowered her head sadly. "They deserved better."

When she rose up again, he was shocked to see small beads of wetness forming in the corners of her eyes.

"And all the while, I was desperately hoping that your sorry ass didn't end up like them."

"Gates—?"

"Shut up." Hurriedly wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, she locked gazes with him. "Just ... shut up. Do you have any idea how worried I was—no, scratch that. Do you have any idea how _afraid_ I was? Sitting here, thinking that you might've ... that you ..."

"Afraid?" He was totally perplexed. "I didn't take you for someone that _could_ be afraid—"

Wordlessly, she placed her hands on the sides of his face, leaned in, and kissed him.

For the next few seconds, her lips were locked against his as he lay frozen in stunned compliance. His mind ceased to properly function as he tried to ascertain what the hell was actually happening. His mind forgot the pain in his chest and arm, the dull throbbing in his head—the only sensation known to him was the warmth of her mouth placed firmly against his own.

Gates pulled away slowly, her chestnut eyes staring deeply into his stormy blues. "And I didn't take _you_ for someone that could make me afraid like that. That could make me feel like _this."_

She paused, then sat down in a chair beside his cot and set her hand over his. "Don't you _ever_ do something that stupid again. Understood?"

He swallowed hard, and nodded slowly.

Satisfied with his answer, she breathed a sigh of relief. "Good. Another incident like that, and I'd have to court-martial your ass myself. Now, get some rest you bloody idiot."

**...**

_Protect the Pilot._

KT stood in the hangar, watching. Just ... watching.

Pilots and riflemen alike, meandering about with purpose, with a sense of self. Each of them had their own lives, their own interests, their own needs and wants.

_So why don't I?_

She'd taken to pondering a question that she'd never asked herself before—what was her purpose? They all knew what they were fighting for, what their reasons were for what they did, why they were here. She was here because she'd been born to fight—

No. She'd been _created_ to fight. Her only purpose was war.

_What if that's not what_ **_I_ ** _want?_

They couldn't know how she felt. They couldn't know what it was like to be a Titan, to only be one half of a whole, to devote your entire existence to protecting the one person in your life that mattered above all others—

_Protect the Pilot._

"KT."

She rotated her optics to see SKD walking over to her, his presence drawing the attention of the soldiers. Generally, Titans were supposed to return to the Titan bay when not actively assisting crew—but she'd refused to leave until she knew Tobias was alright.

"SKD."

The Ronin stood next to her, stoic and professional as ever. "My name is Skids."

She narrowed her lens. "Titans do not have names. We have serial designations."

"Your Pilot has referred to you as 'Kay' several times before. You have not tried to stop him."

She hesitated for a moment. "It is ... a shortening of my ID. For combat effectiveness."

Skids didn't appear particularly convinced. "I would like to talk. You appear to be in distress."

"My Pilot is severely injured."

"I am aware."

She looked down at the floor. "I feel ... responsible. Perhaps my calculations were off, or I misjudged certain variables—"

"You acted on his orders and performed as well as you could have given the situation. There was no error on your part."

KT looked back at him. "Then why do I feel... wrong?"

Skids paused for several seconds, formulating a response. "When you served with Captain Shears, you never faced a dilemma such as this ... until his death."

She twitched.

"You think you have failed the third protocol, but you haven't."

"How have I not?"

"You were presented an impossible situation. Considering how the mission proceeded, you both are fortunate enough as it is." His optics focused in on her. "I intend to say that you are not used to dealing with a scenario in which you cannot succeed. No matter which way you were to operate, there would have been consequences."

She pondered over that information, feeling it resonate sorely with her.

"Similarly to when Shears died, you were helpless to prevent it. And now that history has repeated itself with your current Pilot, you find yourself feeling inadequate."

"I shouldn't. I have carried out sixty-seven total deployments, and should be well-prepared to—"

"With Shears. Not with Four."

She stopped.

"Your current Pilot does not act as Shears did; he treats you as an equal. I cannot say whether or not I agree with his stance," Skids admitted, "but it is apparent that his perspective is altering yours as well. I infer that your reactions are far more amplified due to his abnormal show of concern for you—he is influencing you, changing your own paradigm of the Pilot-Titan relationship."

She processed that for a short time, then looked at him. "Would that be so bad?"

The Ronin gave no answer.

She could not understand. If it was so detrimental of a perspective, if it was so _horrible_ to be considered an equal, why did it make her feel so ...

_Alive?_

Her and Four's combat rating had far surpassed anything she'd expected from her link with him. They kept each other safe, trusting that the other would watch over them. She cared for him, and she knew he cared for her.

But was that a symptom of something more? Since she'd linked with him, she'd found herself thinking in ways she'd never thought before, feeling ... _feelings_ she'd never felt before.

When they were together, her spirits soared. Not just as his Titan—but as his friend. She enjoyed talking to him, listening to him, simply _being_ with him—when she was with him, she felt ... _happy._

But she had also never been so heavily affected by a mission going awry. Even when Shears had died, it had been more subdued—closer to a cold acceptance of the situation as she grieved. This ... this _waiting_ to know if Tobias was okay was driving her mad. She found herself counting the seconds as they went by, each one an eternity, anxiously anticipating any news of his wellbeing.

It was an odd paradox that forced her to beg the real question; was it worth it? Was the cost of harsher pain and hurt worth the greater happiness she had?

"Oi, Titan!"

A sudden voice tore her from her troubled thinking. Both she and Skids turned to see Captain Gates striding across the hangar deck. She nodded in acknowledgement.

"Captain."

Gates crossed her arms, and sighed tiredly. "You'll be happy to know that Four is doing just fine. Give him a few weeks to heal, and he'll be right as rain."

KT felt a wave of relief course through her, and all of the tension she carried left her body.

"I swear though, the damn fool is going to kill himself if he keeps this up," the Captain huffed. "Mind telling him to pick his battles a bit better? Maybe temper his eagerness?"

"Respectfully, ma'am, I don't believe that intervention on my part would change anything," she admitted. Trying to tell Tobias what he could or couldn't do had the same effect as yelling at a brick wall.

Apparently, Gates had expected such an answer, and she rolled her eyes in exasperation. "I figured."

KT saw her frustration with Tobias' antics, and hesitated to speak again—but felt that she needed to. "In addition ... I trust his judgement more than mine."

Gates looked at her oddly. "Do _you_ think he should have disobeyed orders?"

"No."

"Well, you're the AI. Aren't you incapable of making mistakes?"

"Just because we are incapable of making mistakes does not mean we always do what's right."

The woman tilted her head. "Explain."

KT hummed with thought. "There is a hypothetical scenario that showcases the fundamental difference between artificial intelligences and humans. Both are placed in an inescapable prison and given the impossible task of escaping. The AI will recognize that the scenario is unwinnable, and promptly gives up. The human, however, will continue to attempt the impossible, refusing to give in and repeatedly trying to leave even as their predicament becomes abundantly clear."

"So? It just means that the human is wasting their time and energy."

"I disagree. I believe the experiment showcases the relentless nature of the human spirit. Though an objective may appear impossible to complete, and the logical action for an AI is to give up, a human will always keep looking for a way to solve it." She shifted her footing slightly. "If my Pilot had not disobeyed orders, we all would have made it off the Kraken sooner, but would have been pursued by the other IMS vessels and potentially captured or destroyed. He was able to see a solution no one else could—and it is for that reason that I trust his judgment more."

Gates said nothing, but her expression was one of surprise and contemplation. After a few moments, she simply turned and walked off. Skids glanced at her sideways.

"It appears you have come to a conclusion regarding your bond with Pilot Four."

_Damn right._


	16. A Moment in Time

**_Four's Logbook_ **

_So ... Gates fancies me._

_I'm not sure if this is one of the best things to happen to me or the worst._

_On the one hand, I've taken a liking to her too—she's definitely softer around the edges than I initially took her for. She's compassionate, selfless, and a bit of a badass—what's not to love about that?_

_On the other hand, I'm not sure that dating someone who's made a habit of threatening me with bodily harm and certainly is capable of following up on such a threat is the wisest path to take._

_For now, I'm just relieved that Briggs has decided not to reprimand me for my 'intuitive thinking' on the Kraken. I think that's just her way of saying thanks for giving the Militia a bit more breathing room. She hasn't really needed to, however, as sitting in this damn infirmary for three days has been hell in and of itself._

_I need to get out of here before I lose my mind from boredom._

**—X—**

"Alright, listen up."

The members of Foxtrot-Three sat on the crates they'd dragged over to use as seats, watching Gates and Dimitri attentively as their Titans all stood behind them.

"You are among the few who know the real reason we infiltrated the Kraken—to find information pertaining to this super-weapon the IMC are making," Gates began. "As such, I think you deserve to know how your efforts have been rewarded."

She paused, and they all collectively held their breath.

"We found it."

An audible sigh was heard from all three of them. Dimitri smirked at their show of relief.

"Work's not over yet, you three—we now know the planet 'Erebus' is the home of Research site M31, and we know that M31 is handling oversight of Project: Atlantis. But aside from that, we don't have much besides a set of coordinates. No planetary information like weather, size, climate, atmospheric composition, nor any idea of just how crowded with IMC it is."

His expression became more serious. "Our top minds are trying to comb through whatever data we have on Erebus, but it seems like it's not on any official charts—we think the existence of it is kept on a need-to-know basis for their forces. Which means that we need to keep our knowledge of it under wraps too—if we let on that we know it exists, they'll prepare themselves for whatever we might throw at them."

"That's right," Gates agreed. "So, now is the time to make a plan that we can pitch to Briggs—and _quietly."_

The three of them looked at each other, then back at Gates.

"Have you seen our track-record?" Vale asked, crossing her arms. "Since Four joined up, we snuck into an IMC research center and triggered every alarm in the damn place, then fought atop an IMS frigate which ended up crashing in the ocean—I'm fairly certain that 'quiet' isn't one of his strong suits." She shook her head. "Maybe a strong suit in 'dramatic flair—"

"Oh, stop it—you'll make me blush."

Everyone quickly turned towards the source of the noise. KT's optics opened wide, and she felt a small burst of elation at seeing her Pilot making his way across the hangar deck.

Gates seemed less thrilled, and pointed at him aggressively. "Oh, no. You. Infirmary. Now. Or I'll drag your ass back there myself—"

He held up his left hand in a submissive manner. "Easy there, I already checked myself out. They weren't thrilled at the idea, but they cleared it."

His right arm was in a sling, a cast around the forearm. He was also wearing a flexible brace that wrapped around his torso to protect his injured ribs—but even then, Gates didn't look totally convinced.

"I'm fine! Really! Look," he protested, jumping up and down a bit to showcase to her that he was able-bodied. He instantly regretted the decision as pain flared up in his chest, but he dared not let her see. "It's not like I'm heading out into battle today—I'm just saving you from having to tell the game plan twice. Sound good?"

He waited with bated breath while the blue of her visor stared him down. She held up a finger. "One mishap, and back to the medical wing. Clear?"

"Crystal." He held out a thumbs up towards his squad-mates. "Glad to see you two have such high opinions of me."

McFarlane turned to Gates. "Has he always been this much of a smartass?"

"Unfortunately, yes," she muttered. She crossed her arms, but he could just feel that she was giving a slight grin under that helmet of hers.

He nodded and gave her one of his own.

"Alright then, let's get to it."

**...**

Tobias sighed, and fell into a sitting position on his bed.

After several hours of discussing a plan of action concerning Erebus, the group had disbanded for the day. He was sure there would be similar meetings like that in the near future; but for the time being, he was—

"Tired?"

He rotated his head to look at Gates. She'd insisted on helping him to his room—likely to make sure he actually made it there instead of running off again. He watched as she took off her helmet, and raised an eyebrow cheekily. "Normally, I can't get you to stop working. It's nice to see you this mellow for a change."

 _"You're_ mellow," he said lamely. She blinked at him several times, unsure how to react.

"Okay, now I _know_ you're tired; even on your worst day, you're much wittier than that."

"I know," he grumbled. "It's these painkillers, I can't think straight."

"Well," she hummed thoughtfully, "maybe it's the painkillers _and_ the fact that you've been moving around for hours when you're supposed to be _resting."_

He didn't even bother to respond this time around, knowing full-well that she'd win any contest of the mind between them—at least for now. Lying on his back, he breathed deeply in satisfaction at finally having the opportunity to relax, and closed his eyes. He could feel the tension fading from his exhausted muscles, felt his spine decompressing after dealing with the chest-brace all day—

"Scoot over."

He opened his eyes again to find Gates looming over him. He raised an eyebrow quizzically. "A little fast, don't you think?"

"Oh, we aren't there yet," she said with a playful huff, gesturing for him to move. He obliged, and she laid down on the bed next to him. "I just think someone needs to be watching you for a bit—make sure you don't roll off the bed and hurt yourself any further, see."

"Right," he said in a deadpan voice, eliciting a chuckle from her.

Her hand found his and wrapped itself around it, squeezing ever so gently. He felt himself drifting off, listening to the sound of her quiet breathing, enjoying the comforting grasp of her hand in his own ...

For once, he gave no argument. He simply let be what was, and embraced the moment.

The first moment of many.

**...**

KT brushed past a Legion, making her way towards the rear of the Titan bay to prepare for the night.

It had been nearly an hour since they'd finished discussing their plans concerning Erebus. The Heartless had retreated to their quarters, Dimitri was going over mission reports, and Four had left with Gates.

She had sensed a growing connection between her Pilot and the Captain for some time now, and was pleased that the two had decided to finally acknowledge it. KT knew Gates had Four's interests in mind just as much as she did ...

_She better._

The sudden thought forced the Titan to almost fully stop in her tracks. Where had that come from? That sudden small spark of aggression and—

_Envy?_

She knew that she'd been having abnormal thoughts recently, but this was completely uncharted territory. What could she possibly be envious about? Maybe Skids was right; first thing in the morning, she'd have an engineer run a diagnostic on her systems—

"Kay?"

She froze in alarm, recognizing the voice behind her. Turning around, she found herself staring at a wide-eyed Tobias.

"Four? What are you doing here?"

He stared back at her blankly, an awed expression on his face. After a moment, he seemed to realize she'd said something. "What?"

"I said, _what_ _are you doing here?"_

He cleared his throat. "Right. Well, uh, I ... I came to see you."

"Why? Weren't you with Captain Gates? You're supposed to be resting—" A sudden detail made itself apparent. "Where's your sling and cast?"

He glanced down to his right arm where she was looking, and understanding dawned on him. "Oh, right—my arm wasn't hurting, so I, erm ... took it out?" He furrowed his brow, then shrugged and looked back up at her and waved his left hand in surrender. "Don't worry, I'll put it on again when I get back to my room—"

He froze, staring at his left hand in total shock. Experimentally, he flexed it a few times. "Fingers. I have ... fingers."

"... How strong are the painkillers they're providing you?"

Unexpectedly, he gave a guffaw of laughter and turned to face her. "Probably more than they need to be. Am I acting odd?"

"A bit, yes." She narrowed her optic at him. "Why did you come to see me?"

"Who am I?"

The question caught her off-guard. "What?"

"Who am I?" he repeated, his smile gone. "A good man? A bad one? After everything we've been through—who am I to you?"

A silence followed as she struggled to understand why he was asking her this, let alone come up with an answer. But she saw no hint of mirth in his eyes, nothing but desperation and the sense that he felt lost and alone. Whatever had come over him, she had no idea, but she felt it was her job to make it right ... and slowly, she found the words to do so.

"I asked myself the same question several days ago," she explained. "Specifically when you were taken to the infirmary, and I came to an understanding about our interactions. Since I met you, you have changed me in ways I could not predict. I find myself thinking differently when I'm around you, _feeling_ differently when I'm around you. I find myself worrying for your safety more than I should, and thus far, I could not properly describe why this might happen—but now I believe I have the answer."

She gently placed one of her fingers on his chest. _"You."_

"Me?" he questioned.

"I hurt for you because I care about you—and so long as I care about you, I cannot stop hurting for you." She paused. "I have ... never hurt this way for someone else before—and it's because I've never felt so _alive_ as you make me feel."

He was at a loss for words, he hadn't expected that. "But why _me?_ I took Shears from you—"

"And gave me so much more."

"I put others in danger—"

"But never needlessly. You are reckless, stubborn, annoying at times, and infuriating to argue with. These are not the marks of a bad man—merely a flawed one. You cannot judge yourself by your mistakes any more than you should be judged for your triumphs." She hummed thoughtfully. "You and I met as enemies. I remember how we each thought we'd kill one another—now look at us."

She glanced down at him. "You are those things, yes—but you are also kind, selfless, compassionate. To me, Tobias, you are my Pilot. You are my friend. But most importantly ... you are someone I can no longer live without."

His expression was unreadable. After a pause, he motioned for her to bend down. She obliged, though confusedly. With her optics now at his height, he smiled and patted the top of her main 'eye' affectionately.

She froze for a moment, unsure of how to react. He ran his hand over it, rubbing the metal slightly with his fingertips. Then, he placed his hands on the side of her optics and leaned in close, resting his head against hers.

_What is happening?_

"Thank you, Kay. Thank you."

She heard the emotion in his voice, and her resistance crumbled. She didn't care about what Skids said, about what doubts she may have had—she gave in, allowing herself to enjoy this single, quiet moment for once.

"Of ... of course, Tobias."

"You're my other half, Kay. Never forget that."

After a few more seconds, he released her and stepped back. Taking in a deep breath, he gestured behind him. "I should, uh ... probably get some rest."

"I think that would be wise."

He nodded. "Right. And, uh ... maybe don't tell Gates I was out here, yeah? Might not be good for my health."

She laughed lightly. "Understood. Go get some sleep."

KT watched as he put two fingers to his temple, saluted her, then jogged back towards the bay entrance.

This whole experience had certainly been confusing, no doubt about that. She wasn't even sure if he'd remember it if the painkillers responsible for his behavior were half as strong as she suspected. But she could not deny the glowing warmth within her, the burst of emotion she'd felt at those words.

_You're my other half, Kay. Never forget that._

However long the road ahead of them may be, she promised to always cherish the moment they'd shared—the moment when he'd shown her that she was so much more than she could ever have imagined she was.

Whatever this moment might mean for the future, only time would tell.


	17. The Ripple

**_Four's Logbook_ **

_Well ... today's the day._

_Over the last four weeks, Briggs has been unreachable—not sure why. But it's given me some time to heal, and for the rest of us to come up with what I think is a solid proposal to scout out Erebus and determine its threat level to us._

_In about twenty minutes, we're finally going to have the opportunity to pitch it to her. I have to admit that I'm a bit anxious—but it's a good kind of anxious, the kind that leaves you anticipating what's to come._

_Things are about to get interesting._

**—X—**

_"No."_

There was an awkward silence as Gates, Dimitri, and the members of the Heartless simply stared at the holographic projection of Briggs, their expressions giving the impression that they believed they hadn't quite heard her correctly.

"No?" Gates clarified, making sure of the fact.

 _"No,"_ Briggs confirmed. _"You're all being reassigned, the whole ship is."_

"Reassigned?" Tobias questioned, incredulous at the news. "To where?"

 _"The other leaders and I have had some close run-ins with the IMC as of late,"_ she explained. _"Seems like they're getting bolder and more desperate—we've had our hands full trying to keep them away from Harmony, and now we need to shore up its defenses."_ She crossed her arms. _"Harmony's the endgame; if the IMC get their hands on it, the Militia's done. Our shipyards, trade-routes, resources—all of them would be gone. It'd be like Demeter all over again, except we'd be on the receiving end."_

"So that's it?" Tyra scoffed in disbelief. "Everything we've learned, everything we've done—all for nothing?"

 _"It wasn't for nothing,"_ she stated. _"Your plan is good, and it will be carried out—just not right now, the weapon is no longer a priority."_

Something about her wording sounded off to Tobias. "What do you mean it's no longer a priority?"

Briggs paused momentarily, her face becoming conflicted for a second—then she nodded and clasped her hands behind her back. _"That's a fair question—you deserve to know why we've shifted gears. You remember the demonstration you were shown of its capabilities?"_

They all nodded, and she continued. _"We understood that this weapon is designed to affect its target with a field of extreme hyper-gravity, though we had no idea what kind of energy source it would use to generate such a field ... until now."_

Beside Briggs, the familiar model of the weapon appeared. She gestured towards the center of the beam connecting it with the destroyed planet. _"Our scientists managed to decrypt more of the file, and what they found proved that operation of this weapon is impossible. This focal point here? According to the data we've uncovered, this is supposed to be an Einstein-Rosen Bridge."_

"Come again?" coughed McFarlane, "An Einstein _what?"_

"A wormhole," Vale muttered in awe. "She's talking about a wormhole."

 _"Yes—or at least the elements of one,"_ Briggs said. _"For this weapon to work, it would have to draw its power from a theoretical source of energy that would need to be capable of literally folding time and space to create such a field around its target."_

This was far beyond anything Tobias had expected. "Folding time and space? The weapon creates a wormhole?"

_"No, it doesn't create it—it has to use one, or something akin to it, as a fuel reserve. It would siphon off the energy of the wormhole and convert it into concentrated gravity."_

No one said anything for several seconds. Eventually, Tyra raised her arm hesitantly. "Uh, would you mind elaborating on that? I still have no clue what any of this means."

 _"We know that mass and energy affect gravity, and gravity affects time and space—this weapon is designed around the theory that the reverse is also true,"_ Briggs stated patiently. _"There are four dimensions we know of that comprise reality—the three dimensions that give us distance, width, and depth, and the fourth, time; the measurement of existence. Just as we can plot a point on a star chart to indicate a location in space, some think that it might be possible to navigate time through means we don't fully understand yet."_

"That ... does seem a bit far fetched," Gates admitted.

_"Using this weapon in any capacity would not only register readings on every energy counter from here to the core worlds, but would affect the very fabric of the space-time continuum and cause temporal distortions to manifest wherever and whenever each side of the wormhole connected."_

"I'm going to assume that's a bad thing," Tobias said with a raised brow.

 _"We don't know because all of this is still theoretical,"_ she answered shortly. _"To sum it up, we would know very quickly if such a weapon were used, or even prepared for use. As it stands, operation of the weapon is impossible, and will remain so until we develop the technology to complete it ... which won't be anytime soon."_

"So ... definitely not a priority, then?" Dimitri asked.

 _"Not for a while, no. But once we do have the means and opportunity, we'll make sure that they never get the chance to finish their research."_ Briggs placed her hands on her waist. _"Anything else I can answer for you?"_

"No, ma'am, I think that's everything," Gates assured her. The commander gave her a respectful nod.

_"Alright then. Enjoy some shore leave—I'll see you all here in a few days. Briggs out."_

Without waiting for a response, the hologram of Briggs powered down and left them to ponder the implications of what they'd learned.

**...**

_< So ... we're not going to Erebus, then? >_

"Not anytime soon, at least," he confirmed. "Doesn't look like it's a priority anymore."

_< ... A weapon that can alter time and space isn't a priority? >_

"I'm pretty sure that's actually the reason why," he explained, walking down the hall to his quarters. "According to Briggs and her scientists, nobody—not even the IMC—has technology advanced enough to accomplish what this 'fold-weapon' needs. So if it's unusable, why waste our resources on destroying it?"

_< I suppose that makes sense. But how are we certain that they haven't developed such technology in secret? Why would they put so much effort into creating a weapon they didn't intend on using? >_

He stopped very suddenly, earning an indignant cry from a person who'd almost run into him from behind. "That ... is a very good point, Kay." He shrugged, then continued to his door, watching it slide to the side at his presence. "I don't know. But the Commander's confident that we'd know if the weapon was going to be used."

_< How so? >_

"She said that if some kind of wormhole _had_ been created, the space-time continuum itself would be affected." He sighed tiredly. "I'm not exactly a physicist, so I'm not going to pretend that I know what that would look like, let alone what kind of effects we're talking about—I'm just relaying what she told us."

 _< I understand, Four. > _KT still sounded conflicted. _ < I just hope she's right about this. >_

"Believe me, so do I," he admitted. "I think it's a big wager to make, but I don't think Briggs would make it unless she was sure of the outcome."

_< No one is immune to mistakes. >_

"I mean, AI's are," he pointed out conversationally, sitting down on his cot. He immediately felt something odd beneath the covers, something akin to a lump that had not been there before.

_< I'm beginning to question whether or not that's true. >_

Curious, he lifted one edge of the covers and reached under them. Making contact with the unknown object, he grasped it and pulled it out. It was a large envelope sealed with a small bit of wax. He turned it over curiously in his hand, inspecting each side of it for some kind of clue as to where it had come from, but it was totally blank.

"Oi, you."

He looked up at the doorway to see Gates leaning against its frame, her arms over her chest. "You heard Briggs—we've got some shore leave before we head to Harmony. Want to head out on the town, maybe grab something to eat while we're docked?"

He nodded. "Yeah, sounds good. Give me a few to make myself presentable."

She noticed the envelope in his hands. "What's that?"

"No idea, I just found it here. I guess someone left it for me?"

"Probably something important," she mused. "Speaking of gifts, I've got something for you."

Stepping into the room, she reached to her belt and retrieved a familiar data-knife. "The techs have already copied over everything worthwhile on there to do with Project: Atlantis and Erebus, so you're free to have this back." Gripping it by the tip of the blade, she held the handle out to him. He accepted it gratefully, and put it back in its holster.

"Well, I think I'm going to get ready too," she said, raising one hand and knocking on the side of her helmet. "Can't be wearing this out to dinner. See you in a bit?"

"See you in a bit," he agreed, and watched as she turned and left. Returning his attention to the envelope, he placed his fingers under the seam and pulled to break the wax apart.

 _< You and Captain Gates seem to be getting along well. _Very _well. >_

He noticed her voice had taken on a tone of faux-innocence. "I don't remember gossip being one of those protocols of yours."

 _< Gossip? About what? > _she said sweetly. _< I can't see how a relationship between you and an experienced freelance Pilot four years older than you could be deemed interesting in the slightest. >_

"What's that supposed to say about me?" he responded jokingly in mock-indignation. "You saying I'm not a catch?" He reached into the envelope and grabbed its contents, what felt like a single piece of paper.

_< Your words, not mine. >_

He gave a short laugh, then pulled the paper out. Immediately, he fell silent and his smile disappeared. KT detected the sudden change in his temperament, and was instantly on alert.

_< Four? What's wrong? >_

He couldn't answer her—he was too stunned by what he was seeing. The paper had only three pieces of writing on it, the first of which was written in large, bold letters across the top;

**NO ONE IS IMMUNE TO MISTAKES**

"That's ..." He struggled to get his words out, realizing the impossibility of the situation. "That's not ... you _just_ said that ..." He looked at the second underneath it, and wondered what it was supposed to mean—then, an idea came to him.

_< Four? Talk to me, what's going on? >_

"KT, give me a sequence of five random numbers, ranging from zero to ten. Now."

There was a split-second between her processing his request and immediately following it. _ < Zero, eight, one, four, five. >_

He swallowed hard, and looked at what was written on the paper in the middle.

**0 8 1 4 5**

The last piece of writing was much smaller, and seemed to have been done with care. It was only ten words, but the weight they carried could be felt deep within his core.

**It's often the hardest choices which are the right ones.**

_As you grow up, I just want you to know that it's often the hardest choices which are the right ones. When the time comes for you to make such a choice, I have no doubt that you'll choose well._

KT's voice cut into his thoughts. _< Four, your heart rate is spiking—I need you to tell me what's wrong, or I'm going to start calling for a medic— >_

"Briggs is wrong," he breathed. "The fold-weapon _is_ functional—or it will be soon."

_< What are you talking about? >_

"This paper I just read, it said exactly what you said a minute ago, has the same set of random numbers you gave me, and ..." He swallowed hard. "I never told anyone that story. I never ..."

_< You're not making any sense— >_

"The weapon is supposed to be responsible for creating rips in time," he explained, his throat becoming dry. "And ... I think I just found one."


	18. The Choice

"Are you alright, Tobias? You've hardly said a word since we got here."

He looked up from his bowl, his salad having barely been touched. "Sorry—I guess I just got a lot on my mind."

The two of them sat in a dimly lit restaurant, a hole in the wall that didn't exactly exude a sense of sophistication. Gates had spied it while they'd been walking around and insisted on grabbing a table, looping her arm around his and dragging him over. There were only a few other diners other than themselves, and none that they recognized—usually this was a plus, meaning they had some time to be alone with each other for once.

But Gates had quickly caught onto his unusual lack of chattiness, and raised an eyebrow. "Still worried about the reassignment?"

He swallowed hard. "I guess you could say that."

_< Understatement of the century. >_

Tobias knew KT's attempt at humor was just a mask for her own worry. That paper had been proof that something beyond the natural was happening here. The 'no one is immune to mistakes' line had only just been said by her, and it was obviously in reference to Briggs' decision not to pursue the weapon. There was no way to predict what random set of numbers KT was going to rattle off, and as for the final part ...

_It's often the hardest choices which are the right ones._

The wisdom his mother had imparted on him as a kid, the very words that had inspired him to bond with KT and put him on the path that led him to this moment ... that was no coincidence. He'd never told anyone about that—not KT, not Gates, _no one._

So, who had given him the paper?

"You're doing it again."

He blinked a few times, Gates coming back into focus as she stared at him in concern. "Seriously, are you okay—?"

"Let me ask you a question," he cut her off, surprising her with his abrupt change of topic, " a totally hypothetical one—let's say that there was something you knew that no one else did. Something that proved, without a shadow of a doubt, that you were right about something—but you knew that no one else would ever believe you."

She sighed exasperatedly. "We're still on this?"

"Just humor me," he said. "You know that if you don't do anything, you could be jeopardizing everything—but if you're wrong and then do something, you're _also_ jeopardizing everything. What's the right thing to do in that situation?"

"What do you mean?"

"Should you listen when you're told to stand by and do nothing, or should you act in spite of the fact?"

She pursed her lips. "This doesn't exactly _sound_ hypothetical."

He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. Realizing that he wasn't going to let this go, Gates rolled her eyes and gave in.

"Okay, fine. As a gun-for-hire, money used to be my only concern—when the next job was, when the next paycheck was coming in, you get it." She leaned forward. "But when I saw just how far the IMC was willing to go to keep the people of the frontier under their thumb, something inside me snapped. I couldn't just think about myself anymore, I had to work and fight without thinking about whether or not I was getting paid—I had to do it because it was _right."_

She reached one arm over the table, and held her palm up. After a moment, he tentatively placed his hand in hers, and she held it tightly.

"What I'm trying to say is that sometimes doing the right thing isn't as obvious as you'd think it is, and sometimes it isn't as easy as we'd like it to be. Does that make sense?"

He swallowed hard. "More than you know."

She cocked her head to one side. "So—what's got you thinking so much about this? Is there something you want to tell me?"

He opened his mouth for a moment, thought of what he was going to say—then closed it once more, and shook his head.

"Nah. I think I'm just overthinking some things."

She raised her eyebrows playfully. "Clearly."

_< What are you doing? >_

KT's tone was questioning, but he didn't have the opportunity to explain his reasoning. Instead, he simply grabbed his glass, still sporting a bit of grime on its side, and raised it with a smile. "I promise, no more work talk for the rest of the night—just you and me."

She returned his smirk and grabbed her own glass, clinking it against his. "To us."

Taking a swig from his drink, his eyebrows shot up in complete shock as he watched her down hers in quick gulp. She wiped her mouth, then gave a short bark of laughter at his dumbfounded expression. Leaning across the table, she planted her lips against his, then sat back down with a smirk.

"Remind me to never challenge you if there's ever a drinking contest," he muttered, eliciting another bout of snorts from her.

"You know," she said quietly, "you don't seem too hungry, and it's getting late. What say we head back to the ship ... and spend some time in my quarters?"

"Oh, sure," he easily agreed. "What'd you have in mind? Another game of 'Crooks and Crowns'?"

Her only response was a raised eyebrow, and an amused sigh as she stood up from the table and walked to the exit. He sat there in confusion momentarily before she turned back with a sultry glint in her eyes.

"In case I didn't make it obvious enough for you ... we're _there_ now."

Realization dawned on him, and his face turned slightly red. "Oh ... _oh."_

With some new haste in his step, he made his way over to his woman and looped his arm in hers as they set back out into the night.

...

He pulled his pants on as quietly as he could what with their metal zippers and pouches jingling about. Unfortunately, the effort seemed to be for naught.

"... Mmmmph? Where're you ...?"

He heard Gates' tired speech as she woke up from her slumber, and he walked over to the bed to place a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Hey, sleeping beauty. Just was getting ready to head back to my quarters—not that I wouldn't love to stay, but I don't know that the higher-ups would like the idea of discovering me sleeping with my superior officer."

"Pssshh, I'm a f'lancer ..." she slurred. "Can do what I wan' ..."

"Don't think they'd see it that way," he chuckled softly. He knelt down and gingerly kissed the top of her head. "I'll see you tomorrow. Promise."

"I'll hold you to tha' ..."

He swallowed hard. Without thinking, he reached down to where her hand lay and grabbed it tenderly in his own. He squeezed once, feeling a bit of her strength as she tried to squeeze back, and then let go.

The next few minutes passed in a blur; he was vaguely aware of leaving her quarters and making his way through the halls towards his own. He had some recollection of grabbing his armor and gear, then heading towards the hangar—but for the most part, his mind was completely focused on what he was about to do, how much of his new life he was about to throw away—

"Why didn't you tell her?"

KT's questioning voice snapped him out of his inner thoughts, and he looked up to see the Ion standing in front of him. He hadn't noticed he'd made it to his destination.

"Because it wouldn't matter," he explained. "Either she wouldn't believe us, in which case she'd have to report me for the plan—or she _would_ , and then she'd get sucked into this right along with us." He shook his head. "I can't do that to her—she's got a career, a future."

"And you don't?"

He sighed and leaned his back against a supply crate, sliding down to the ground from where he stood. "It's complicated."

"Is it complicated, or are you _making_ it complicated?"

He threw his hands up in the air. "I don't know, KT! I just—I don't know. I wanted this to work, I really did. I thought ..."

KT lowered herself down to his level. "What is this about?"

He looked up at her, then reached into his pocket and pulled out the mysterious note from earlier. "If this really is a warning, if it really _is_ from the future ... then what does that mean for us? For me?" He looked at the paper in his hand, such a seemingly harmless thing—and yet he held it like it were a bomb capable of obliterating everything around him. "Does this mean that we have no control over our future, but are just living out some pre-written script? What meaning is there to life if that's the case?"

She was silent for a moment, contemplating his words. "You think that life has no worth now?"

"No, that's not what I'm saying—at least, I don't think it is." He tightened his hands into fists. "It's like if someone told you when you were going to die, like you suddenly had a lot less time than you thought. How do I deal with knowing that answer? Knowing that nothing I ever wanted to do matters—that my only purpose is to follow what this piece of paper says?"

"Screw what the paper says," KT snapped suddenly.

He looked up at her, stunned by her abruptness. "What?"

"Ignore it. Throw it away, burn it. Who cares? What you do with it is up to you—you don't have to listen to it. We can just stay here, relocate to Harmony like Briggs ordered us to if that's what you want."

"But—"

"But _what?"_

"But if we don't do this, who will? Millions would die, Harmony would surely be destroyed—"

"And does that matter to you?"

His eyes widened with shock, almost outrage that she would ask such a question. "Of course it does!"

She blinked, her optic staring at him earnestly. "Then there's your meaning."

He opened his mouth momentarily, then closed it again.

"Like I said, how you respond to that paper is up to you," she iterated. "It hasn't made you do anything, it's entirely your choice—and this is what you chose." She pointed a finger at his chest. _"You_ chose to save me on Nedar, _you_ chose to stop me from being decommissioned, _you_ chose to be my Pilot. Time and time again, you've made these choices—and _why?"_

"It's often the hardest choices which are the right ones," he whispered.

She said nothing more, instead opting to simply watch as he stood up from his spot on the ground and nodded to her. "Let's set this plan in motion."

"And what plan would that be, exactly?"

He whipped around to see Vale, Tyra, and McFarlane approaching from behind, all three dressed in their armor. His eyes widened. "Guys? What are you doing here? I was just—"

"Don't bother, we heard most of it the first time," Vale cut him off. The simulacrum looked around the hangar, bobbing her head thoughtfully. "So, let me guess—you and KT are planning on stealing a dropship out of here, heading to Erebus, and taking the fold-weapon yourself? How's that, am I somewhere in the ballpark?"

Tobias sighed heavily at being found out. "Yeah, that's pretty much the gist of it."

Vale clapped her hands together. "Great, we're coming too."

His head snapped back up in an instant. "What? No, you're not—"

"Uh, _yes,_ we are," Tyra interrupted. "Did you think we got ourselves fully geared up just for the fun of it?"

Vale stepped forward before he could argue further. "Do you remember what I said to you when you asked about our name? Why people call us the Heartless?"

"You told me not to ask," he pointed out.

"We never asked for the name. People saw us as outcasts, drifters with nothing to fight for. And for the most part, they were right. We'd grown so numb to the war after fighting for so long that we just ... stopped caring."

"I was a garage mechanic as a kid," McFarlane said, his voice quiet. "I watched the IMC sap my world dry of resources, then leave it barren and empty. I've watched them do it a hundred more times since. You get used to it after a while."

"I grew up on the streets of Luma," Tyra muttered, her tone unusually serious. "Got myself into a lot of trouble, thought I'd never have a future. Joined up with the Militia just to get away from the damn place."

"We all have our reasons for joining," Vale continued, "but we didn't care why we were fighting—not until you came along."

"Me?"

She nodded. "We all fought for ourselves, though we'd be hard pressed to admit it. But you? This whole time, you've been fighting for someone else." Vale pointed at KT. "You're only part of the militia because you thought someone else's needs were more important than your own—and honestly, we all could stand to learn a thing or two from that."

She crossed her arms over her chest. "So if you tell us that you're about to go and risk your life for others' again ... then we'll tell you that we're gonna be with you every step of the way."

Tobias heard large, metallic footsteps, and turned around to see three Titans approaching from behind KT; Skids, June, and Cee, all active and waiting for orders. He glanced over all of them with a sigh, then turned back to face Vale.

"We're gonna need a bigger ship."


	19. Erebus

Gates awoke to the sudden sound of alarms blaring. Scrambling up from the bed and disentangling herself from the sheets, she hastily pulled on a pair of her pants and an undershirt, grabbed her helmet, and booked it out the door.

The ship's halls were rather empty, another sign of just how late it was. She saw others beginning to poke their heads out of the doors of the quarters, and still more who were already armed making a beeline for the hangar. She waved to one of them, calling out to grab their attention.

"Oi, what's going on?"

"Unauthorized takeoff in the hangar," he shouted back, "We think someone's stealing a ship!"

"Unauthorized takeoff? Why would—"

Suddenly, it clicked—why Tobias had been fidgety during dinner, the hypothetical question he'd posed to her, and then leaving in the middle of the night ...

She clenched her jaw tightly, her lips set in a thin line. "Oh, I am going to _kill_ him."

**...**

"Hey, could we hurry this up? Preferably _before_ Gates marches down here to personally kill me?"

"I'm trying," Trya growled, inputting commands into the ship's console from her spot in the pilot's seat. "Getting this NAV system to link up with the Widow's is a pain in the ass when you haven't been given any clearance codes ..."

With all of the new additions to the mission, he and KT had needed to adjust their method of transportation slightly. Now, all four Titans were stored in a Widow adjacent to the Crow dropship that currently housed the Pilots.

Vale approached Tyra from behind and clapped a hand on her shoulder. "Well, you better try harder—I'd expect to have company real soon."

Tyra checked the external ship cams and swore. "Dammit, they're moving in to surround us."

"Can they ground us?" Tobias asked.

"No, they shouldn't be able to, I've disabled any kind of auto-pilot command they might try to hijack—"

"Which just means that they'll have to shoot us down instead," McFarlane casually called out from the drop bay.

"Not helping!" Tyra yelled back angrily.

Tobias took the moment to look out the viewport at the Widow across the way. "KT, how are things on your end?"

_< We are operational. I've disabled our ship's safety protocols—we're just waiting on Pilot Crane's link now. >_

He groaned, then glanced back at the cockpit again. "Tyra ...?"

"Got it!" she crowed triumphantly, pumping her fist into the air. Sure enough, the command console seemed to indicate that both ships' navigation systems had been linked together—that meant that wherever Tyra flew them, the Widow would follow close behind.

"Then get us the hell out of here!" Vale ordered, her voice anxious.

Tobias heard a sudden burst of static as someone connected to his comlink's radio channel. _"Just what the hell is it that you think you're doing?"_

His eyes widened at the voice. "Gates?"

McFarlane's gaze snapped to him in recognition. "Oh, shit."

Tobias gulped. "Hey, uh—are you going to blow us up?"

 _"I'm trying to think of a good reason not to. You're more than welcome to send one my way,"_ she replied, her voice seething.

He sighed, steeling himself for the explanation that he knew he'd have to give sooner or later. "I'm doing what you told me."

_"This isn't what I meant—"_

"The line between what's right and wrong keeps moving for me, Gates," he continued. "When I was in the IMC, I thought I knew what was what—but I was just a tool. And now I've made an effort to better myself, I've have friends, I have _you—_ but Briggs is asking me to stand down and watch while the IMC creates what could be the greatest threat the frontier's ever known."

He shook his head. "I'm done following others without questioning anything. If Briggs is wrong, billions could die—this is bigger than me, bigger than the Militia. I have to think about the people on Harmony, on every world that might be a target. And if that means I have to give up everything I've worked for ... then so be it."

He waited for some scathing remark, for some venomous response—but she stayed silent. "Gates?"

_"Patch me through to the others."_

He blinked a few times in surprise, but did as she asked. After a moment, all members of the Heartless could hear Gates as she spoke to them.

_"This is a direct order; you three better make sure that he doesn't have his head too far up his own ass to listen to reason every once in a while, yeah?"_

A stunned silence followed before McFarlane broke it with a quiet, "Y-Yes, Captain."

"Thrusters are hot and ready to go!" Tyra called out. "Hang on!" After a moment, the walls began to rattle as the dropship lifted itself off the ground and sped out of the hangar, the Widow not far behind.

_"And Tobias?"_

Gates' connection was becoming less stable as they grew further apart, and he made sure to listen closely as static began to garble her words. "Yeah?"

_"This war has enough dead heroes. Make sure you come back, okay?"_

Her tone was unusually soft, its normal bite all but nonexistent. He swallowed hard. "I promise."

There was no answer from Gates. Nothing played over the comlink save for static now. With some hesitation, he closed the channel.

"Alright, Erebus's coordinates are locked in," Tyra murmured from her chair. "Last chance to turn back, Four—your call."

Slowly, he turned and made his way into the cockpit, everyone watching him as he did. Leaning over her shoulder, he stared out into the void of space and nodded his head.

"Punch it."

She obeyed, slamming a lever forward to activate the ship's jump-drive. For a moment, space seemed to bend around them and warp to accommodate the size and shape of their ship tearing through the fabric of reality. The exterior glowed a blinding white all around—then, they were blinking as the Crow instantly materialized to its destination, and they looked through the viewport to see a massive planet looming before them.

Erebus.

After weeks of thinking about this moment, about what they might encounter when they actually arrived here, it was an odd sensation to finally see the planet firsthand. It was difficult to see the surface, there were too many clouds in its atmosphere to get a good look—but on initial observation, he was having a hard time finding any green or blue. The likelihood was that it wouldn't be a fertile planet—

"That didn't take very long," Tyra muttered as a red light lit up on the dash. "I'm tracking several projectiles converging on our location from the surface, my bet is missiles."

 _< I'm detecting those too, >_ KT responded in his head. _< Cluster missiles! >_

"Break atmosphere, we need to get as close to the ground as we can!" he ordered hastily, immediately moving to the drop bay with Vale to join McFarlane.

She spent no breath on a response, but followed his command. He and Vale quickly sat down on the seats built into the sides of the bay, strapping themselves in via the safety restraint bars that lowered over their chests. McFarlane was already in such a position, his hands gripping the metal bars tightly.

"Try to outmaneuver them if you can, but don't bet on it," he called up front. Tyra gave a nod of acknowledgement, jerking the ship to the right while the Widow attempted to follow suit behind them.

The reinforced glass in the viewports began to glow red as the Crow pierced the planet's atmosphere, the air around them heating up. The red tinge dissipated after a bit, and was replaced with the sight of clouds whizzing by.

"Brace yourselves, first missile incoming!" Tyra yelled, and all three of the bay's occupants tensed in preparation. It still wasn't enough to save them from the shocking jolt that hit the ship a few moments later, shaking them about in their seats.

Finally, the cloud's disappeared as they dipped beneath the sky's upper layers. Before he could get a better view of the surface, however, another missile landed its mark on the hull of the ship and an alarm began to whine.

"Can't take any more punishment, we're going down! I repeat, we're going—"

 _"Pilot!"_ The deep voice of Cee made its way onto all of their comms. _"The Widow has been damaged as well—our NAV system is non-functional, and we are veering off-course. We will send you our coordinates once we have landed."_

"Understood Cee, you all hang tight!" Tyra turned back towards her three passengers. "Brace for impact! Touchdown in three ... two ... one—"

The dropship skipped off the ground like a rock thrown against water, then crashed back down. The loud noise of metal screeching as it ground against rocks was all encompassing. He held his metal restraints as though they might come apart if he didn't. Vale's actually _did_ come apart after a particularly nasty bump, and she was thrown onto the floor with a metallic clang. She reached out, grabbing what she could to keep herself from sliding around as Tyra held tightly onto the controls. The noise continued as the ship began to slow ... and kept slowing ...

Finally, with a metallic lurch, the Crow came to a stop.

"Alright," Tobias yelled, lifting his restraint and standing up, "everyone off!"

While Tyra punched a button and opened the Crow's bay-door as far as it could in its damaged state, the other three quickly grabbed what supplies they'd been able to scrape together before launch—their gear, ammo, and a collection of rations that would last for a week or two. While McFarlane tossed a magazine over to Vale, Tobias ran out of the ship to see Erebus from the ground.

It was quite windy, he could hear it through his helmet as it passed over him. He checked the atmosphere of the planet with a reading from his HUD. Eighteen percent oxygen, no toxic gases detected. Thin, but breathable. He turned off his suit's filtration system, not wasting extra power on converting already breathable air.

Besides the fact that breathing the air wouldn't immediately kill them, the planet didn't seem to have all that hospitable of a demeanor. The ground was covered in gray, crystalline sand that occasionally rose up into small dunes. Fog surrounded the area, though it wasn't very dense—he could see for quite a ways in every direction, it was more of an annoyance than anything.

"Not very inviting, is it?" muttered Vale, stepping out from the wreckage. "Kinda cold for a desert." He looked over at her, and grunted in agreement. It was indeed fairly cold at 14.6 degrees celsius, at least according to his HUD. Overhead, the sky was a dull gray color.

For all intents and purposes, Erebus looked like a dead world.

Tyra and McFarlane came out a moment later, their packs secured on their backs. He turned and waved at Tyra. "Did you get any clue as to where those missiles came from?"

"Ship's onboard analysis said it was that way," She pointed in the direction that the starboard side of the ship was facing. "Three degrees north, towards the pole." He gave a brief nod, and opened his comlink.

"KT? Are you four alright?"

_"We are unharmed."_

"That's good to hear. Send us your coordinates, we'll meet in the middle somewhere."

_"Affirmative."_

A few moments later, a black square appeared on his HUD, a small point off in the distance. The reading next to it said, _'EST. 21.3K 41_ _°_ _NE'._

"Alright, the Titans are twenty one klicks and forty-one degrees north-east of us. We can't head to them directly, we'd lose too much time. So, I recommend meeting here." He sent a new square where both teams' paths would intersect to everyone's HUD's. "I'd say it will take us at least three to four days to meet up with the Titans, and a full week to find where those missiles came from."

Vale shrugged. "Then we'd better get started."

He opened up his comlink channel again. "Here's the rendezvous point, Kay. See you in a few days, alright?"

_"Affirmative. Please stay safe, Pilot."_

He cut the connection, and motioned to the others. "Let's get going. We're finally going to see what Erebus has been hiding."

**...**

Exhausted, he leaned against a large rock, planting his ass firmly on the ground. The other three followed his example as the team settled down for the night.

They'd made good progress for today, having been walking for nearly eleven hours. Night had descended upon them a while ago, but they'd persisted. They stopped finally when they realized that there wasn't even a moon orbiting Erebus, and the only light they had to guide them was from the stars obscured behind the clouds. Deciding to call it a day, they'd selected an outcrop of rocks that stood around like massive shards of broken glass, creating a sort of circle in the middle of all the sand. It was as good as any place to rest.

"Who's going to keep first watch?" Tyra asked the group. He was about to volunteer when the comms crackled to life.

_"We can monitor your helmets' audio and visual feed while we continue to trek forward. We don't need sleep, so you four can rest."_

He nodded appreciatively, though she couldn't see it. "Thanks, Kay."

_"You're welcome."_

"Well, in that case ..." Vale made herself comfortable, and then the light on her head winked out as she deactivated for the night. Physical rest wasn't something she needed, but mental rest was another story. McFarlane found himself a spot on the sand, and shifted around until he was comfortable. Tyra placed her helmet on a rock, allowing its visual feed to watch the horizon for threats, then ran her fingers through the buzzed hair of her head and massaged her scalp. After a minute, she sat down next to McFarlane and laid down on her back. Tobias watched the rise and fall of her chest until it steadied and he was sure she was asleep.

Looking up at the sky, he noted that the clouds had finally opened up somewhat. He had a clear view of the sky, the clearest they'd had since arriving here, and he could see the stars glinting out in the black beyond. He marveled at them, thinking to himself about how far away each of them was and wondering how long it took their light to reach here—

_< Why don't you sleep? >_

He snickered at Kay fussing over him. "How'd you know?"

_< Your heartbeat is still consistent with its average resting rate when you're awake, and your neural pathways are still active. >_

He sighed. "You know, no matter what planet you go to, the stars always manage to get me. The galaxy's such a big place, and every world gets a different view of the sky. Constellations are different, perspective is different... it just makes you feel small, I guess."

She said nothing.

"As a kid, I grew up with nothing but Gridiron's slice of the universe. But my first time off-world, it all changed. The frontier is such a big place, you could never hope to explore it all. There's so many people, so many cities and planets full of their own ideologies and beliefs... that's what I'm fighting for now, I think. For everyone to have their own slice in peace."

KT was silent for a moment before responding. _ < I wish I could see the world the way you do. >_

He blinked. "What?"

_< Humans have long since remarked on how insignificant they feel in the universe, how small and minute they are compared to the vastness of it all. Yet, you create civilizations, colonize worlds, expand fearlessly. You have a history that stretches back thousands of years, ancient art that still maintains importance today, and an ever changing paradigm of the way the universe functions. >_

He hadn't ever considered that side of the argument. He was about to tell her as much, but she continued before he had a chance.

_< You fight to protect those things—because even if they aren't worth anything to the universe as a whole, they mean something to _ **_you_ ** _. You fight to preserve them, risking your own lives in the process. You may feel small, but to me ... you look like giants. >_

She sounded longing, like she was watching some amazing spectacle with her hands pressed against the glass separating her from it. He grimaced.

"I kind of just realized something; you haven't had any kind of life outside of war, have you?"

She was silent for a moment. _< No. >_

"So what happens to you afterwards? When this is all over, one way or another?"

She pondered that carefully. _< Uncertain. Perhaps I would be repurposed to aid in reconstruction efforts. >_

An idea came to him. "Well, I don't want to stay a soldier for the rest of my life. When this war is finished, I'm going to take a long trip around the frontier—and I doubt that you'd want to get stuck as nothing but cheap labor. So maybe..."

_< Yes? >_

He exhaled deeply. "How would you like to go with me? To go exploring, see all the amazing worlds the frontier has to offer—just the two of us?"

_< What about Captain Gates? >_

He was caught off-guard by the sudden question. "I mean, it's a bit soon to think about that, don't you think? If things go well, I don't think I'd mind settling down with her eventually—but this wouldn't be about her, it'd be about us."

_< Really? >_

He could detect the slightest hint of excitement in her voice, and he chuckled. "Really! We could jump from planet to planet, sampling a taste of each before moving on. What do you say?"

_< ... I'd love that. >_

He smiled. "I thought you might. Now, I better get some rest. The sooner we figure out what's going on here at Erebus, the sooner we can stop it; so we've got a long week ahead of us."

_< Understood. Good night, Tobias. >_

"Good night, Kay."


	20. Ancient Powers

**_Four's Logbook_ **

_We're almost to the rendezvous point now. It's gotten much colder the further north we go, we're starting to see ice and snow on the surface of the sand. It's such an odd combination to see, sand and snow together—but it just goes to show that you can never be too sure of what to expect out here in the frontier. Sometimes, real life is stranger than fiction._

_We spotted something with our binoculars that could have been an outpost on the horizon. It was a bit too far to see clearly, even with magnification, but it definitely didn't look natural, which means we're getting closer to whatever the IMC are doing here. It was too far out of the way, so we decided not to investigate, but we're taking it as a hopeful sign of things to come._

_Erebus may be a dead planet, I'm yet to see any sort of trees or wildlife—but there's no denying that it's pretty, and unique. I can honestly say that I don't think I've ever seen a world like this before. There are definitely worse places to die._

_Still, I'm hoping that won't be the case._

**—X—**

The storm around them was becoming stronger. Both snow and sand blew into their chassises, coating their metallic plates in frozen crystals of ice and silicon. Cee extended one arm and ignited a small jet of fire to melt his away, as he had done several times over the past hour. KT would pick at her crystals every once in a while, scraping enough off to prevent it from becoming an issue. June's shell seemed to have been modified by McFarlane to keep water and debris from collecting on it, and Skids just pushed through it, seemingly unconcerned with the buffeting weather.

She looked behind them to see a long trail of massive footprints left behind, stretching far into the distance until they were obstructed by a large hill they'd traversed earlier. She remarked on how long they'd been traveling today, and wondered how the Pilots were faring.

The landscape around them reminded her somewhat of Nedar, though at least Nedar had had cover in the form of outcroppings of rocks and forests of trees. Out here in the vast tundra, there was nothing to shield them but large rises in the terrain and each other's bodies. It made her worried; they hadn't been able to establish contact with the others since last night, likely due to the storm. They were on the fourth day of their march, and she couldn't help but hope that Tobias wasn't freezing to death or buried underneath the sand somewhere—

"We are one kilometer from the rendezvous point," came Skids' voice, startling her out of thought. She shifted her optic to glance over at the Ronin.

"Are you sure?"

"Affirmative. 1.2 kilometers to be precise. You can put your mind at ease."

She nodded. That meant only one more kilometer until they were reunited with their Pilots, one more kilometer before she could make sure Four was safe—

Wait.

"Put my mind at ease? What are you implying?"

Skids realized his error, and took the time to carefully explain what he meant. "You might think you shield your thoughts, but your behavior betrays you. This is the longest period in weeks that you've gone without linking with your Pilot—and in that time you've become quite irritable. You inquire about their status aloud and far too often, and you grow silent for long stretches of time when you worry about them. Especially _him."_

She bristled at his comments. "I exhibit none of those traits, I am operating as efficiently—"

"No, you're not."

June and Cee looked at one another in confusion, then back at the other two. June's optics rotated from Skids to KT and back. "We're unaware of what the two of you are referring to. What is the problem?"

Skids snorted derisively. "KT has become affectionate with her Pilot."

She felt a bit of anger flare up within her towards Skids and his derogatory remark. "Of course I am affectionate with him—as you said, he is my Pilot—"

"More so than you let on. It is disconcerting to see such a bond between a human and Titan," Skids cut her off. "I overheard your conversation with him several nights ago, but have neglected to bring it up until now. I remember telling you that his influence was causing your view of the Pilot-Titan relationship to change, and it would appear that I was right; you alter your language when you interact with him, speaking to him like a fellow human."

She thought back to that night in the hangar, when he'd come to see her. She thought about what he'd said to her after she'd taken the time to tell him what he meant to her ...

_You're my other half, Kay. Never forget that._

"Yes, I am closer with my Pilot than most Titans," she relented angrily. _"Much_ closer. It is because of this that my combat effectiveness has increased exponentially when he and I fight together, so I ask you—why do you insist on labelling it as a negative influence?"

Her response finally seemed to give him pause. After a few seconds, he rotated to look at the Scorch behind them. "Cee, what are the three protocols?"

The large Titan instantly listed them off. "Protocol one, link to Pilot. Protocol two, uphold the mission. Protocol three, protect the Pilot."

An ocular probe on Skids' chassis spun to the side to look at her. "I am truly indifferent to the nature of your bond with your Pilot. I only intervene because I feel it necessary to remind you of the order of those protocols; the mission comes first, _then_ the safety of our Pilots."

She was a bit shocked at the blatantness of his words. "If you were forced to choose whether to let Vale die for the sake of the mission or save her, you would—"

KT hadn't even finished her sentence before he'd answered, "I would let her die, yes."

She had no idea how to react, and so she simply stared at him wordlessly.

"That's not to say I wouldn't feel great remorse and mourn for her loss—but I would put the mission before her, yes. She would want it that way, and so I would honor her wishes. I would not disrespect her so much as to value her life over those that she is trying to save."

Cee added, "I would also allow my Pilot to die if I were presented such a difficult choice. And I am sure that she would do the same to me in order to uphold the mission—I am her second Titan, after all."

Skids continued, "I know that sounds harsh, but it's the truth. My point is that if you were given an analogous scenario, I believe you would save Four rather than complete the mission. And though you may think it to be a noble choice, it is a dangerous organization of priorities."

June said nothing, but from his body language he seemed to agree with the others. All three became silent as they marched on, allowing her to reflect on the hypothetical question Skids had given her; if it was Four's life on the line, could she make that choice? Could she sacrifice him to uphold the mission?

Back when she was linked with Shears, the Captain had made his stance very clear. She'd told Tobias as much, that Shears always put the mission first and her safety second. At the time, she too would have placed the objective before him.

But now? She wasn't sure which call she would make if the time came for her to decide.

"We will arrive in thirty seconds."

Skids' announcement immediately cheered her up. She'd sort out everything that he'd made her think about later, but all that filled her mind now was the thought of seeing the Pilots and Four again, after days of—

Something wasn't right.

The storm was clear enough for them to see ahead to the rendezvous point. It was just another expanse of tundra, but that wasn't concerning. What _was_ concerning was the fact that the Pilots were not there.

The four Titans continued forward until they were standing right where everyone should have met up. They looked around.

"No sign of the Pilots detected. They have not reached this checkpoint yet." June moved about, scanning for footprints, heat signatures, anything to give them a clue as to the humans' location.

Skids crouched down. "Agreed. Two possible scenarios. The storm slowed them down, and they have not yet made it this far—"

"Or they've encountered a problem," KT finished. She gazed out into the direction where they should be coming from, and saw nothing. She felt the tendrils of anxiety beginning to creep up on her.

"Affirmative." Skids stood up again. "My guess is that the first scenario has occurred. I would hesitate to assume trouble until we're absolutely sure."

Holding onto those words, KT stood in place and scanned the horizon. She would wait.

So they waited.

And waited ...

**...**

... and waited.

She wasn't sure how much time had passed since she'd begun standing here. Every so often, she'd try to reach them over the comms. "This is KT-0298 to Pilots, please respond. Four, are you there?"

And every time, when there was no answer, they would continue to wait.

And wait.

And—

_"One hell of a storm, huh?"_

The comlink transmission was brief, but strong. She quickly snapped to attention and scouted out ahead towards a rise in the land. Through the flurry of sand and snow, she could barely make out four shapes approaching in the distance. She felt all of the tension she'd had for the last three hours leave her, and she allowed herself to finally relax.

It was another minute or so before they all reached the Titans. The silhouette in front approached KT and gave a thumbs up. "Glad to see you guys are all in one piece."

KT knelt to the ground, presenting her head as Tobias reached forward and ran his hand along the top of it. "Likewise, Four. I've missed you."

He chuckled. "The feeling is mutual. Sorry we took so long, but the wind was a real pain in the ass."

She glanced over to see if Skids was going to comment, but he was busy reuniting with his own Pilot. It seemed that, despite his expression of disapproval for the closeness she and Tobias shared, he wasn't exactly the distant type either. Vale leaned against one of his legs with her elbow, the two of them enjoying a silent exchange rather than a vocal one.

"Good to _see_ you, Cee!" called Tyra, walking over to the Scorch while giggling madly at her own pun. He held his arm out for her to stand on, and opened his hull.

"Very clever. I recommend you embark, we will all move faster if you four aren't on foot."

"Agreed," concurred June, and his hatch opened up to allow entry for McFarlane to hop in.

KT looked at Tobias, and nodded. Her own chassis opened up, and he gripped the sides of the opening to pull himself in. He sat down in the Pilot's chair and linked himself up as the ocular systems in front of him brought themselves online and displayed what was going on outside. There was a small feeling like cold mercury seeping into his spine, and then—

He looked right, and tested out the movement. When the Ion's arm moved, it wasn't KT's, and it wasn't his—it was _their_ arm, controlling it together through a bond of neural sensors and trust. He flexed their body, trying to get a feel for the environment. It wasn't really cold anymore, not in the way that he'd felt it before; it was more like a dull presence in the back of his mind that nagged him, but didn't take away his concentration.

He turned to see the other three now in control of their respective Titans as well. All turned to face him.

"We ready to move out?" he asked. The Ronin nodded.

 _"Following you,"_ came Vale's voice through the comlink.

He beckoned to them with a wave of one hand. "Let's go, then."

The band of Titans set out once more, trekking across the seemingly endless barren landscape towards their objective further north.

**...**

"So, you guys didn't see anything IMC either?"

KT replied, _< No. We believe we may have spotted a potential outpost earlier, but we could not confirm it through the storm. >_

He thought about that. "For as secretive as the IMC were about Erebus's existence, I wonder where they all are? It feels weird that we haven't see any sign of them so far if this place is so important to Atlantis. I wonder if—"

_"I'm seeing an anomaly on the horizon, can anyone confirm?"_

He stopped and looked towards where McFarlane was indicating on the HUD. There was a small rise ahead, but it seemed to end rather abruptly. A cliff? "Yeah, I'm seeing that too."

_"Might be worth checking out."_

"I agree. Let's see if we can use it as a vantage point."

With Tobias and KT in the lead, the four Titans trudged up the incline to stand on the lip. He was hoping to see something of interest, possibly a path they could use to continue forward. He finally reached the top, and looked over to see—

He froze, at a complete loss of what he was looking at.

Tyra noticed his stiffness, and she turned Cee sideways to look at him before following his gaze. _"What's the matter? Did you—oh my god."_

They were standing on the edge of a massive crater, miles and miles across. In the bottom of it were some kind of large structures, buildings and formations that stretched out in all directions until they reached the walls of the crater, and disappeared within them. It appeared to be an excavation site, and the buildings had been buried in it.

 _"Are those IMC facilities?"_ asked Vale.

He shook his head in disbelief. "I don't know about you, but I've never seen any IMC facilities that look like that."

Their shape differed from the standard bunkers he'd seen the IMC install for outposts, seeming far too flat and precise compared to the ridges and components that usually came with a prefabricated building. Deciding that this was too interesting of a discovery to pass up, he positioned their arm to scrape into the side of the cliff, and slid down the wall of rock. He bent their legs upon reaching the bottom to absorb the impact, then stood up and began to make his way over to the anomalies. He could hear the scrape of metal against stone as the other three followed his lead.

After walking for ten minutes or so, they reached the outer perimeter of the structures. The group analyzed them from every angle, drinking in their strangeness with a thirst they hadn't previously had. Support-wise, the buildings would be just as efficient as any other. But architecturally and artistically, they were very different from anything they'd ever seen before. Some were asymmetrical, some were even. All were made of different material, different shapes of infrastructure ... everything from the foundation up was foreign to them.

Tobias spied something on one wall in particular, and furrowed his brow. Unlinking himself from KT and hopping out onto the ground, he moved closer and raised a hand to scrape away some of the ice and dirt caked onto it. Underneath the powder were etchings and engravings in odd, triangular patterns that were unfamiliar to him. The material itself seemed to be some kind of metal-like substance, but eroded away until its smooth surface had become akin to sandpaper. The less damaged areas were silver in color while the rest of it was faded and had become a sort of black and bronze mess.

"KT, you ever seen anything like this?" he muttered, still trying to grasp what exactly they were looking at.

"No. These structures and those engravings are completely unknown to me."

He scanned around. Even now, it seemed like these weren't complete buildings; their bases weren't revealed, which meant that there were probably still bits of them not yet uncovered. He glanced to his right and saw large bulldozers, cranes, and other heavy machinery scattered around the site. They seemed abandoned too, however—rusting and frozen, left behind to rot in the elements.

He pointed to them. "Look at that excavation equipment. This was a dig-site, they were unearthing everything they could find. Looks like they haven't been here in a while."

"Why would the IMC suddenly be interested in archeology?" asked Vale, walking over to stand next to him.

"I don't know," he murmured. He gestured at the wall. "Look at how old that is, though; the condition this stuff is in, I can't even imagine—"

"I am analyzing the depth of the crater, and forming an estimation based on how long it would have taken structures to have been buried this deep," KT cut in. She was silent for several seconds as her processors worked to provide an answer. Finally, her optic pulsed with a blue light. "These structures are at least two hundred thousand years old, potentially older."

McFarlane hopped out of June, joining Tobias and Vale on the ground, and Tyra followed immediately after. "That's ... pretty old."

"Indeed. It more than predates the oldest records of human civilization."

Everyone froze.

Slowly, Tobias turned to face her as the impact of those words hit him in full force. "You mean ...?"

"Humanity as you know it has only existed in an advanced state of being for the last six to seven thousand years. These ruins were created before humans ever achieved behavioral modernity."

Tyra just sat down hard in the icy sand, her mind struggling to process exactly what they'd just discovered. Vale was silent, but noticeably stiff. She didn't know how to react to this. McFarlane just looked at Tobias, his expression unreadable.

Four went ahead and voiced what everyone was thinking, but was unwilling to say.

"We've just discovered evidence of alien life."

KT looked around the ruins. "Not just alien life— _intelligent_ life. This was a civilization that could create structures to last for more than two hundred thousand years. Most human constructions would not last even a tenth that long."

He held a hand up to his head, trying to stem the pounding headache he was getting from the rapid flow of too much new information. He tried to put the pieces together—the ruins, the secrecy, the excavation tools ...

 _"That's_ what the IMC are doing here—they found these ruins a while back, and now they've digging them all up."

McFarlane recovered enough to stare at him and voice a question. "Okay—but isn't that pretty harmless? Just digging up old cities and ruins? Granted, they're _alien_ ruins, but why all the secrecy?"

He shook his head. "It's not just that. All that excavation equipment there, it's just abandoned. They're not actively searching here anymore, they've moved on—they're not doing this for the sake of discovery."

"Then why _are_ they doing it?"

"When you look for something, but you can't find it, what do you do?"

Vale sighed. "Look somewhere else."

He nodded. "Exactly. You remember what Briggs told us about the fold-weapon? How we haven't developed the technology to operate anything like it yet?"

For a moment, they all stared at him—then, Tyra's hand covered her mouth in shock as what he was suggesting clicked in her head. "Oh my god. This is _bad."_

He clenched his jaw. "This civilization, whoever they were ... they had a two hundred thousand year head-start on us."

"Are you saying that t-the fold-weapon ... is an _alien weapon of mass destruction?!"_ McFarlane choked out, his voice struggling to maintain its composure.

"Seems that way."

"Hang on," interrupted Vale, holding her hands out to quell their theorizing. "If the fold-weapon really _is_ alien, and it was capable of blowing up planets when the IMC found it—why haven't they just dusted it off and fired it up already?"

That was something Tobias hadn't thought of, and he had to admit that she had a good point. All signs were pointing to the fold-weapon actually being something the IMC found rather than created ... but if that were the case, why wasn't Harmony a collection of planet-sized chunks of rock right now?

An idea struck him. "Maybe ... maybe because it _wasn't_ ready when they found it."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, the technology for it might be there, the IMC certainly think so—they know where the fold-weapon is, what it is, and how it works—but they can't get it to start. Not without something else they're missing."

McFarlane crossed his arms. "Something else? What would that be?"

"I'm not sure," he admitted, looking towards the abandoned excavation equipment with an uneasy feeling in his stomach. "But whatever it is ... I think they're close to finding it."


	21. Breaking Point

**_Four's Logbook_ **

_Aliens. Actual, honest to god, alien ruins. I won't lie, this isn't at all what I was expecting to find here._

_This discovery does provide a few answers, though—namely, why the IMC have been so hush-hush about everything pertaining to Erebus and Project Atlantis. Clearly, if word about this got out, everyone in the frontier would be scrambling to protect themselves from such a threat, especially the Militia. The IMC wants to catch them unawares, and intimidate them into submission from there._

_But that still leaves a few blanks to be filled in—like, what does Spyglass have to do with this? As far as I know, the AI went rogue and isolated itself and its forces, but we found Erebus's location from the Kraken's direct link to his wartime network. And what is it that they're looking for? We still don't know what key component they're missing, but we have to stop them before they find it._

_And that means getting off of this rock to warn Briggs._

**—X—**

The IMC outpost wasn't particularly impressive to look at, but it was the first sign of any sort of life other than themselves on this forsaken planet, so they weren't exactly complaining.

Tobias tossed a ration bar over to Tyra. She caught it easily, and gave a small nod of thanks. He looked over at where KT and the other Titans were standing guard, their backs to the Pilots as they watched the outpost for activity. It was roughly a klick away and they had the high ground, but one could never be too careful.

The compound itself was fairly average in its layout; a dockyard for ships, a main base, infantry barracks, and what looked to be a large garage. It wouldn't be of real significance if it weren't for their current situation; in the four days since first finding the ruins, they had discovered several other dig sites as well—all of them abandoned like the first. They still didn't know exactly what all of this was for, not for sure. But with the clues they'd collected, the Heartless had decided it was high time they pieced together the puzzle.

They just had to get back to the Militia and share what they found—but that was easier said than done.

An extraction from Erebus was not an option. Their own dropship had been shot down almost immediately upon entering IMC space, they didn't have a reliable way of calling for help, and that was assuming anyone would come to their rescue now that they'd gone AWOL. That left Plan B, one that involved the IMC outpost they'd stumbled upon ... and the Goblin dropships parked in its dockyard.

"How much longer until we want to make a move?" asked Tyra, glancing over at him while he sat against a mound of snow. He checked the time on his HUD, now synced up with Erebus's day cycle.

"Give it another twenty minutes. It'll be getting dark out then, and that'll make it harder to detect us."

Tyra nodded, then looked back down at her hands as she absentmindedly fidgeted with her fingers. Vale stood off to her right, checking over the Titans like Tobias had done a few minutes ago. McFarlane was drawing shapes in the icy sand, breaking apart frozen clumps with his fingers. He looked up sharply, noticing Tobias watching him, and took on an unusually curious expression.

"You know," the other Pilot said out of the blue, drawing everyone's attention to him, "you never told us _why_ you made the decision to say 'to hell with it' and go rogue. What convinced you to do something like that?"

Tobias tensed up slightly. "What do you mean?"

McFarlane shrugged. "I mean, you basically just threw away the second chance everyone gave you, all to go off on some wild goose chase." He held his hands up before Tobias could protest. "Don't get me wrong, we thought you were right to do so—we wouldn't have come with you if we didn't. But I gotta know; what made you think that, beyond a shadow of a doubt, Briggs was wrong about all this?"

Tobias hesitated at first, growing silent as he weighed his options here. He wasn't sure any of them would believe him—but then again, they'd essentially followed him into hell on nothing but a prayer. At this point, they were the only friends he had left—if he couldn't trust them, then he couldn't trust anyone.

Reaching into one of the pouches on his belt, Tobias pulled out the catalyst for this whole operation—a single, folded up piece of paper.

McFarlane removed his helmet, allowing his longer hair to spring back up from where it'd been matted down on his head, and narrowed his eyes. "What's that?"

Instead of answering, Tobias tossed the paper over to him. Catching it in his hand, McFarlane opened it up and read it. It didn't take him very long; after a few seconds, he looked back at the other Pilot. "What is this supposed to mean?"

"I found that on my bed after our briefing with Briggs," Tobias explained in a low voice. "KT had just said that first line to me in regards to Briggs' decision—before I ever saw the paper. I asked her to rattle off a series of random numbers in an order of her own choosing." He pointed to the paper. "It was exactly the same."

McFarlane said nothing, simply looking down again and re-reading. "And this last line?"

Tobias grew silent, lowering his gaze to stare at the ground. The other three watched as he took a deep breath and sighed with a heaviness that hadn't been there before.

"That was something my mother said to me when I was just a kid. I don't think I ever really understood what she'd meant—I made a promise to always do the right thing, but I didn't really know what the right thing _was._ I caused a lot of pain when I could have been preventing it, I spent years spreading misery when I could have been spreading hope."

He shook his head, talking more to himself now than McFarlane. "I don't want to do that anymore. When I met KT, everything just ... clicked. My life doesn't matter, not to me—so I want to spend mine protecting the ones that do. Protecting the people who can't protect themselves."

He chuckled softly. "Like ... a knight."

Tobias looked back up at McFarlane, noting the other man watching him carefully. "I never told anyone about that—not you, not Gates, not even KT. That letter is proof that time has been distorted, that those ripples in the continuum aren't just theory like Briggs thought—it's from the future. Someone gave me that for a reason ... someone who knew me well enough to know what I'd do with it."

McFarlane took one last look at the paper, then folded it up and threw it back to Tobias. "Yeah, but who? Who do you think wrote it?"

For that, Tobias didn't have an answer.

Vale whistled to them as she turned her attention to the horizon and noted the setting sun. "Focus up, you two, night's almost here."

Giving a nod of acknowledgement, Tobias rose to his feet while McFarlane put on his helmet. Time to carry out the first part of the plan; getting into the compound. And as the saying went; if an idea ain't broke, don't fix it.

He walked over to the Titans while the others checked their equipment. "It's time."

McFarlane groaned from behind him. "Man, I've put so much work into that thing ..."

Skids turned at his command, then crouched down to the human's height to present his main optic. Tobias reached forward and removed the rectangular lens casing over the Ronin's eye, revealing the Titan's cylindrical data-core within. Feeling for the release mechanism, he found it and slid the now removable device out of its receptacle. He held it in his hands, and rotated it to look at the side where 'SKD-3812' had been engraved. He placed it in a large bag, and moved on as the Ronin chassis remained frozen where it was.

Cee and June also knelt in turn, each allowing Tobias to remove their data-cores and store them within the bag. When he was finished, the chassises stood back up and awaited commands, nothing inside them save for a basic operating system now.

He walked over to Tyra and handed her the pouch, now full of the Titans' data-cores. "Keep that safe." She gave him a nod, then resumed checking over her gun and armor.

Without a data-core, the three Titan chassises would be relatively easy to destroy, no more than a few minutes for the IMC forces here.

A few minutes was all they needed.

He glanced over at KT to see her staring right back at him. She was the only Titan whose data-core wouldn't be stored with Tyra, and so she had the most dangerous job. This plan was risky ... but if it paid off, they'd all be reuniting with the Militia fleet within the hour.

He looked up at the dark sky to see that the sun had finally disappeared from sight altogether. "Alright, everyone. Let's do this."

**...**

The IMC riflemen in the dockyard never actually expected anyone to infiltrate the outpost. After having been stationed on this desolate rock for months of constant digging with nothing to show for it, they were bound to grow complacent at some point. That lapse in security was why they didn't notice the silhouettes of two Pilots darting through the airfield, using the shadows and size of the ships to their advantage as they searched for their target.

Having selected a Goblin far enough away from prying eyes to remain undetected, but close enough to provide safe extraction for Four and Vale, McFarlane set himself to work. Tyra waited as he applied his engineering knowledge to bypass the clearance code request on the bay door, and forced it to open. After a few seconds, the door descended to the ground with a triumphant whir, and he grinned.

"We're in."

Tyra ran up the ramp and through the drop-bay to reach the cockpit while McFarlane kept watch for the guards. She sat down in the pilot's seat, and opened a private line through her comlink while flipping switches and priming the ship's engines.

"We're in position, and the ship is ready for takeoff. Vale, Four? What's your progress?"

**...**

_"...Vale, Four? What's your progress?"_

Looking around the edge of his cover, he whispered, "Initiating the distraction."

He and Vale were crouching next to the garage, more or less a massive warehouse filled with ground vehicles and mining equipment. At the far end of it was a door that would lead deeper into the facility, and where they wanted to go. But to get through the soldiers ambling about, they would need to occupy them with something else—something that would drive them out.

"KT, send the signal."

_"Affirmative."_

He and Vale waited for another few seconds or so as KT, who was hidden behind a dune some distance away, emitted an encoded signal bearing instructions to three particular mechs.

 _Rumble_.

Some of the soldiers looked around in confusion at the sudden vibration they felt. Others appeared confused, apparently having not noticed.

 _Rumble_.

That time, they all felt it. One of the riflemen turned and pointed outside at something he saw. He was about to yell at the new threat before a wall of lead pellets blew him into red mist.

 _RUMBLE_.

The next soldier was luckier, pointing outside and shouting, "TITANS!"

The Ronin, Atlas, and Scorch chassises began to open fire on the base and the people inside. The IMC soldiers reciprocated in kind, charging out with anti-Titan weaponry in the form of Archer rockets and ionized Charge rifles. While they were occupied with the two Titans, the two Militia Pilots hiding around the corner slipped in unseen, and darted through the garage to reach the door connecting it to the main facility.

"We're inside, we'll update you when we reach the target."

As it stood, they didn't have much to report on the IMC's activity here aside from the fact that they were excavating old alien structures. Tobias was hoping that if they poked around in the logs of this outpost's archives, they might find something that told them _what_ exactly they were looking for inside of all these ancient structures, and what it had to do with the fold-weapon.

He and Vale dashed through the base, wall-running where they could to stay off the ground in the event that someone entered the halls and spotted them. Thankfully, it seemed that everyone else was already preoccupied outside and had left the building.

 _"Looks like things are going as planned,"_ Tyra said over the comms. _"The soldiers in the dockyard have all gone off to fight the Titans, it's clear here."_

He didn't respond verbally for fear of being heard, but flashed a green acknowledgement light on his HUD to show that he heard her.

Eventually, they arrived at what appeared to be the command center for the outpost. With each of them taking a side of the doorframe, the two of them carefully drew their weapons and peered around the edge to scan the interior.

The only occupants were three riflemen, all of them busy with their own tasks on different sides of the room. Monitors and consoles lined the walls with the far, front wall having been converted into a massive reinforced window. It reminded Tobias of the viewports on the bridge of a frigate; through it , one could see outside into the landscape of white. There wasn't exactly much to see, but maybe it was better than having to stare at concrete walls.

In synchronization, Tobias and Vale entered the room rifles-first. Three single-fire bursts from his Flatline, three accompanying thumps as their bodies fell to the floor.

"Clear."

Now free from onlookers, he rushed to one of the nearby consoles and pried open its exterior casing with his data-knife. Wasting no time, he stuck the blade into a compatible slot to begin downloading all of the outpost's local files; archived logs, mission records, physical findings, everything. He expanded the download's parameters to include anything that had been shared on a network between this facility and other outposts as well, hoping that there was a gold needle in the haystack _somewhere_.

"Downloading the data now," he quickly spoke under his breath.

_"Understood. We'll be waiting."_

The holographic rings on the butt of the knife's handle slowly cycled from orange to blue, signifying the transfer's progress. Vale stood at the door with her Spitfire anxiously, watching the entrance hallway. "We've got to stop making a habit of this. How much longer is it gonna take?"

"I don't know, there's a lot more information in here than we thought. Just give me a bit more—"

_< Four, the chassises have been disposed of, you're running out of time! >_

He growled in frustration. "I'm working on it, KT!"

The suspension only grew as the seconds continued to lengthen, nothing for them to do but watch the digits on the knife continue to flash as the rings encircled themselves.

 _Blip_.

The knife emitted a small noise as it finally finished the download, and he gave a sigh of relief. He pulled it out and held it victoriously in his hand. "I got it! Let's—"

 _BANG_.

Reeling from the sudden explosion of noise, he quickly spun around in horror to see Vale's body teetering on those blade-like feet of hers, trying to retain its balance. Her head had been completely blown apart, circuits and wiring fizzing and crackling in their exposed state. As he watched, she was nudged forward ever so slightly and fell to the ground.

A slight waviness in the air stood behind the space where she'd been, and it materialized into the visible form of a female Pilot holding an SA-3 Mozambique shotgun-pistol right at his face.

He recognized the cloaking technology, a form of light-bending. Not widely used due to how expensive it was to produce, but damn useful as evidenced by the fact that neither he nor Vale had noticed anything was amiss until it was too late.

"I've been compromised," he whispered.

"Hands behind your head, and down on your knees," she ordered. He quickly complied as to not receive a face full of lead. Vale was a Simulacrum, she could be re-uploaded into a new body. He, on the other hand, could not.

_"What do you mean? Four? Respond!"_

_"Pilot? Hold on Four, I'm on my—"_

The Pilot quickly stepped forward and yanked his radio transmitter out from the side of his helmet. She held it in her hands like she'd just confiscated a toy from a misbehaving child.

"Good work, Veronica," came a voice from the corridor outside. Both of them turned to watch the doorway as a man entered accompanied by several riflemen. He spoke with a thick South-African accent, and was heavily built. If there was a part of him that _wasn't_ toned with muscle definition, Tobias couldn't see it. He had short ginger-blonde hair that spiked backwards as though he was constantly facing a strong wind.

He said nothing as the stranger stared right at him, or rather at his helmet's visor. If he didn't know better, he'd swear that the man could see right through it.

Unexpectedly, the newcomer gave a small chuckle. "So, this is the prick that's been giving Marder so much trouble, eh?" He knelt down to Tobias' level, and grinned like a wolf that had caught its particularly elusive prey. "Not so impressive now, are you?"

"Took this off him before he gave anything away," came Veronica's voice. The Pilot tossed the transmitter to the man, his hand reaching up and snapping it out of the air. He looked at it for a moment before he crushed it in a fist, tossing the remnants to the floor before looking back at his prisoner.

He noticed the object in Tobias' grip, and made a _tsk_ sound. "I'm afraid you can't have that." Reaching forward, he pulled the data-knife from Tobias' hands and twirled it around expertly in his own. With a sigh, he stood back up.

"PFC Tobias Four, I presume? No, wait—you're a Chief Warrant Officer now, right? Not a bad promotion." He smirked as Tobias twitched from the shocking realization that the man recognized him.

"That's right, I know who you are. Everyone does now, after that stunt you pulled on the Kraken. Quite the spectacle, that was!" He winked at Tobias. "I suppose it's only fair that you and I are even." He gave a mock bow with a flourish of his hand. "Kuben Blisk."

Tobias narrowed his eyes at the name, remembering where he'd heard it from. "I know you ... you were at the battle of Demeter."

"Right, you are. Tried to stop MacAllan before the scum blew himself and the rest of the planet up. Just made it off by the skin of my teeth." He gave a thoughtful hum. "Guess you and I were on the same side for that, weren't we?"

Tobias blinked confusedly. "What are you doing all the way out here?"

Blisk crossed his arms. "I'm a mercenary, I fight for whoever has the most money. Once Spyglass decided that his 'Remnant' fleet was better off as an army of robots, I decided that being in that line of work was no longer profitable. Luckily, the ARES Division was hiring."

The ARES Division? He'd never heard of it before, was it an off-shoot branch of the IMC?

Blisk twirled the knife in his hands again, oblivious to Tobias' inner thoughts. "I try not to hold a grudge against any man. Business should never be taken as a personal offense, in my opinion. I've got my own creed I live by, you see—a simple philosophy to determine who is better than who." His expression darkened as he turned to Tobias again. "But I've got a special exception for deserters, as I once told one; _I'll fight any of you for free."_

He clapped his hands together. "You see, loyalty—even if it only extends to the last day of a contract—is still a promise. And when you break that promise, when you break your word ... what else do you have as a person? What more do you really have when you've sold your soul away?"

"I didn't sell my soul, I found it," Tobias growled. "You're the one who fights for the guy with the deepest pockets."

Blisk whistled, his eyebrows shooting upwards. "A bit aggressive for someone in your position, don't you think? Though, I wouldn't expect any different from what I've heard about you; morally righteous, disobedient, a real rule-breaker! You don't have any idea how much I've been itching to have a shot at you." His eyes twinkled like a kid on Christmas morning. "Even without payment, the prospect was enticing—but now that you've got a bounty on your head? The urge to take you in myself was irresistible."

"How did you even know I'd be here? The chances of that happening—"

"I was told you'd be."

Tobias felt his blood chill. "What?"

"I imagine it's a bit of a shock to hear that, eh?" Blisk grinned. "That's right, our man on the inside has been shadowing you quite closely. When they told us of a traitor that joined the Militia, we were disappointed. But when that same traitor steals data on Project Atlantis, raids an IMS frigate, and discovers what we've been doing here on Erebus? Marder was furious!" He threw back his head and gave a loud guffaw. "I must say, I am impressed—you just didn't stop!"

He felt like his whole world had come crashing down around him. The people he'd grown close to, the ones he'd come to call his friends—one of them wasn't who they said they were.

His thoughts turned to the one person who had been close to him since the beginning, asking him about his every thought and idea, the one who'd worked with him on every plan he'd come up with. The one who had tried several times to keep him from pushing onward, tried to restrict him to the medical wing, the one who'd been an obstacle at every turn.

The one ... the one he'd fallen for like an idiot.

"Gates," he whispered.

A sympathetic expression crossed Blisk's features. "I know it must be hard to hear that your friend turned out to be a traitor like you." He chuckled. "Ironic, isn't it? Though, to be honest, I'm not sure you have any right to judge."

 _Rumble_.

He walked around Tobias in a circle. "Now, this has been fun, but I do actually have to _kill_ you before I can get paid." He paused right in front of him, and held out the data knife with the blade towards Tobias neck. "I figure if you were willing to die for this data... then who are we to stop you from doing just that?"

 _Rumble_.

Tobias spotted movement out of the corner of his eye as the riflemen in the room looked around uneasily in an effort to locate the source of the rumbling. Blisk and Veronica, however, were too focused on taunting Tobias to notice.

"You wanted to be a hero, now you can die like one—"

The sound of shattering glass finally drew both of their attention away from their prisoner. That turned out to only be the opening act as the hum of a superheated laser filled the air, and a beam of energy shot through the broken window and incinerated Veronica. Blisk ducked down, and peered up to see the source of their trouble was an Ion class Titan.

"What the bloody—"

Acting quickly, Tobias brought a fist forward and felt it connect with Blisk's jaw. The mercenary staggered backwards as Tobias yanked the knife out of his hands, and ran towards the window.

"Stop that Pilot!" Blisk yelled furiously, but the riflemen were kept at bay by KT's splitter rifle, and held their hands over their head as though that would shield them from the Titan's fire. Tobias leapt out of the Titan-fist sized hole in the window, and onto the frozen ground.

"Come on!" he shouted, and the two of them began to sprint towards the dockyard on the other end of the compound. She scooped him up with one arm as they ran, and placed him inside her hull. He quickly linked with her, and continued to run without a break in either of their strides.

 _< Four, are you alright?! >_ KT demanded.

He shook his head. "No, I'm really not. We need to get to the ship!"

On cue, Tyra's voice came through the speakers of KT's comlink. _"Four, KT! Get your asses over here!"_

"Working on it!"

Piloting KT, he swung their leg into the fence that walled off the airfield and crushed it. Wasting no time, he tore through the rows of dropships as gunfire erupted from behind them. The IMC soldiers were relentless in their pursuit, and more than once he had to evade a missile that tore into a Goblin next to him.

A black square appeared on his HUD, indicating which dropship Tyra and McFarlane had commandeered. _"Hurry! You're going to have to grab KT's data-core fast!"_

"Just take off!" he yelled, his voice shrill. "Get ready to jump out of here, and stick low to the ground! Fly close to the cliff, we'll cover you!"

Tyra swore over the comms, but presumably set about to obeying his orders. He knew that if the ship stayed too close to the airfield, the IMC would catch up and shoot it down. They needed time—

_< We don't _ **_have_ ** _time, Tobias. >_

"For what?"

_< For you to disembark, grab my data-core, and then board the dropship. The IMC will surely reach us by that point—you have to get on without me. >_

He shook his head immediately. "Not happening, Kay."

_< Protocol two, uphold the mission. You must— >_

"We'll figure it out!"

He refused to entertain the thought of leaving her behind. He couldn't. He _wouldn't._

Gunfire began to pepper their backside, and he turned to face them head-on. Holding a hand up, he directed energy into their vortex shield, a handheld gravity-field designed for Ions to catch projectiles. Bullets became caught in their grasp, their progress all but halted entirely. He saw an armored car with a mounted turret driving alongside the airfield, and redirected the shield in its direction. Once released, the projectiles retained their momentum and struck the engine and gas reserve. The car blossomed into a fiery explosion, and flipped over.

He turned and continued to run, almost to the cliff now. Their dropship was hovering right next to the ledge, its side-doors open with McFarlane standing by to assist.

 _"Come on!"_ Tyra practically screamed over the radio.

Disembarking, he quickly hopped onto the dropship, and turned around to the still open door where KT was now eye level with him, standing right on the precipice.

"Lean forward!" he commanded, trying to get her optics close enough to where he could retrieve her data core. Just as came within arm's reach, they both froze as they heard the sound of a missile screaming through the air.

"Incoming!" yelled Tyra from the front. "Brace for im—"

It hit the broad side of the dropship as Tyra tried to pull up and away from the threat. The impact caused the ship to lurch, and Tobias felt himself fall into open air.

"No!" McFarlane cried, diving to the floor and just barely reaching down in time to grab Tobias' wrist. Now, he was dangling precariously over the edge of the cliff, and twenty feet above the ground where KT stood.

"Tobias!" cried his Titan, and she rotated to face the threat of the IMC infantry as they continued to target the Goblin, hoping she could at least save them.

"We've gotta get out of here!" Tyra yelled, trying to pull further away.

McFarlane struggled to maintain his grip on Tobias as the latter shouted back, "We're not leaving her! Move us back—"

Another missile came barreling right for the ship, and Tyra had to quickly thrust upwards in order to avoid it. The missile shot past them, and started to travel in a large arc upward as it looped around for a second attempt. Unfortunately, McFarlane's hold was already loosening to begin with, and time seemed to freeze for a moment as Tobias was jerked out of his grasp and began to plummet.

"Four!"

_"TOBIAS!"_

He didn't so much hear the anguish in his Titan's voice as he felt it—a horrible, piercing shriek of terror as his best friend watched him fall to his death. He saw that he was going to miss the cliff and fall right into the abyss—

He felt a large metal hand suddenly snatch him from the air, its grip firm but tender. Bringing him closer to her, he could see that KT's chassis was scratched, dented, and missing quite a few plates—but she was still standing. "I've got you! I've got—"

The missile that had looped around decided to make its presence known as it suddenly slammed into the center of KT's torso, and exploded. She held him far enough away to where it didn't hurt him, but he felt the scorching heat of it all the same.

When the smoke cleared, he looked to see KT staring right back at him. Her right arm was blown off, various panels on her limbs had been ripped away and her endoskeleton underneath was now exposed. Fire had ignited on several parts of her body.

They both stared in disbelief at one another, realizing the truth—there was no coming back from this.

Slowly, KT began to pitch forward towards the edge of the cliff. With a voice that sounded broken and sad, she spoke two final words.

_"Trust me."_

Holding him in her only remaining hand, she quickly placed him inside her hull as they both toppled over the ledge.

"KT!"

His cry of pain went unanswered, and he was completely helpless to do anything as they fell into the depths below.

After several terrifying seconds of free fall, there was a great sound of wrenching metal, a flash of pain as his head slammed into the side of the hull, and then everything went dark.


	22. Cold Solace

_..._

_..._

_..._

_... backup.systems recalibrating {DESIG. KILO_TANGO—0298} last.activation (74:18.39 min ago)_

_/ WARNING [CRIT SYS OFFLINE]_

_/ WARNING [PRIM SYS OFFLINE]_

_/ WARNING [OCU SYS DAMAGED]_

_/ ATTEMPT 1 REBOOT_

_[STATUS: FAILED]_

_/ ATTEMPT 2 REBOOT_

_[STATUS: FAILED]_

_/ PERFORM ALL SYS SCAN_

_[ANALYSIS: all primary systems and critical functions are offline (recommend immediate repairs to prevent further damage to AI) ocular systems are operating below minimum efficiency]_

_/ PERFORM PILOT SCAN_

_[ANALYSIS: pilot has sustained injury (fatal?.no) ~ alive]_

_PROT. 1 [COMPLETED]_

_PROT. 2 [IN PROGRESS]_

_PROT. 3 [IN PROGRESS]_

_/ RETRIEVE PRIORITIES_

_[PRIORITY 1: analyze potential methods to uphold the mission]_

_/ OVERRIDE_

_/ WARNING [OVERRIDE UNAUTHORIZED]_

_/ OVERRIDE password.key (298hearts4?.accepted)_

_[OVERRIDE AUTHORIZED]_

_/ REWRITE PRIORITY 1_

_[PRIORITY 1: protect pilot at all other costs]_

_..._

_[You are my priority, Tobias. I'm not going to let you die here.]_

**...**

He opened his eyes.

The dim interior of the cockpit was illuminated by nothing more than a dim red light that flickered on and off as it warned of critical damage to the exterior hull's integrity. He checked his HUD for the time; roughly an hour and fifteen minutes had passed since they'd fallen.

He performed a quick self-analysis. He had a massive headache, probably from hitting his head when they'd landed—fortunately, his helmet had protected him from the brunt of the impact. His visor was intact, but a thin crack made its way from top to bottom now. He moved a little, and grimaced in pain; his right arm felt like it'd been hit with a sledgehammer. He must have reopened the fracture in the bone he'd gotten from the Kraken. He'd live, but it was going to hurt like a bitch for some time unless he set it.

He felt like there was something else he needed to check, something vital that hovered in the back of his mind, something...

_< ... Four ... >_

He immediately became alert. "Kay!" He flicked on the ocular systems, only to find that there was nothing but a dark grey mass on the lens.

_< ... Buried ... under ... snow ... >_

Everything came rushing back to him. He remembered how high the cliff's drop had been, and remarked on how miraculous it was that they'd survived at all. He wouldn't be surprised if the IMC didn't bother looking for them, they probably assumed that they were both dead. With the snowfall they'd come to expect from this region of Erebus, he guessed that they had to be under a few feet at least. It seemed that they'd landed on their back, as he felt gravity pulling him down into his seat.

_Shit._

"Just... j-just hang on, w-we'll figure something out," he stammered, trying to push through the horrifying reality of their situation. Gingerly raising his arms, he grabbed his helmet and pulled it off. He touched the side of his head with a pained grunt, the tortured nerves flaring up at the brush of his fingertips.

_< Mission is ... compromised ...Tyra and McFarlane ... evacuated before ... receiving ... the intel ... >_

His eyes widened, and he looked down to see his data-knife lying near his feet. KT was right—they'd left without the outpost's data. Everything they'd done ... it had all been for nothing. Now, all the Militia would know is what Tyra and McFarlane told them, and they'd likely be hard-pressed to trust the word of two Pilots who had stolen a ship on an unsanctioned op.

He made a fist, and clenched it hard. That wasn't even the worst of it—the others weren't aware that Gates was an IMC spy. He bit back tears at the thought of her relaying information to the enemy this whole time. She'd lured him in, and he'd fallen for her, hook, line, and sinker. It had been nothing but a ruse from the start, and now he was the only one who knew it.

Why else would an elite mercenary, perhaps one of the top Pilots in the frontier, want to be with someone like ... him?

He felt wetness growing in the corner of his eyes, and he hastily wiped it away with the back of his hand. "Is Vale alright? Did her blackbox function work?"

_< Her ... blackbox's data-package ... was beamed out ... upon her death ... I ... detected it ... >_

That was the only piece of good news he'd heard so far. Only time would tell if the Militia actually received the data and compiled it with a backup of Vale's consciousness, but it was a better chance than none.

_< Analyze ... the intel ... with ... my systems ... >_

He realized that KT was right, he could still find out for himself what the IMC were doing. He glanced over to his right where a command console resided next to his arm. Reaching down to grab the data-knife, he inserted it into an accommodating port and watched as the ocular system's screen changed from the view of snow to a program meant for data exploration.

In the basic code, he could see the names of all the files he could access; excavation sites, personal logs, recorded data, related projects, and so on.

Navigating to 'excavation sites' with a few button presses, a new paneled layout of various images appeared. Each picture was a photograph of different ruins and sites like the ones he and the Heartless had discovered. He was shocked to see that there were hundreds of documentations, many of which didn't even appear to be from Erebus. There were several that had been taken from a submarine drone deep below the surface of an ocean, their ghostly silhouettes illuminated by the drone's lights and covered in odd coral-like growths and algae. There were some that had been taken on a desert planet that appeared to be hot and scorching, quite the opposite the Erebus's frozen dunes.

"This isn't the only place these aliens inhabited ..." he muttered. "How long has this been kept hidden from us?"

Backing out of the menu, he instead selected 'recorded data'. A plethora of charts and graphs appeared before him, most of them too far out of his realm of knowledge to properly read. What he could gather was that they tested each planet for its gravitational pull and atmospheric composition, amongst other, lesser variables. He backed out again.

'Personal logs'. He entered, and pulled up one that was titled, 'carson_findings191'.

_/ We've tested each planet on which these ancient ruins appear for several factors, and the results are consistent across the board. Though the planets themselves are often vastly different from one another in age, size, and location, they show very little variations in the qualities that golden worlds exhibit. Despite orbital chronology, distance from the main star of the system, and other superficial factors, they're been habituated to host beings like ourselves._

_/ My guess is that these planets were terraformed by these 'Architects', as we've taken to calling them, at any time between the last several hundred thousand to two million years. If even half of what we theorize about their capabilities turns out to be true, then these Architects would truly have been the apex race of their time—but then, where did they go? We won't be able to narrow down a more precise time period of their existence until we've fully deciphered their language, but Marder says it's irrelevant. He wants us to focus on weaponizing their technology, the idiot. He seems particularly interested in utilizing the Plexus installations—does he not see how many applications this tech could have on civilization outside of the war?_

_/ - Senior Project Lead, Dr. Remis Carson_

The 'Plexus installations'? He had no idea what that could be referring to. He decided to move on, and selected a different file labeled, 'marder_progress247'.

_/ We've located a new set of ruins—yet another dead end. Everything we've found on the other planets, from what we've been able to understand, seems to point to Erebus as a place of great importance, possibly a home-world. Progress is still slow, as is to be expected; most of the ruins here are buried underneath the desert and rocks, and even more of them have been found further north in the arctic region, which adds another layer of complexity to our search._

_/ I don't find my conviction faltering, however. Spyglass turned himself into a common enemy to the rest of the IMC to buy me time to continue my research—I can only repay that gift with results. They'll see—they'll all see, in time. And it will be beautiful when they do._

_/ - Head of ARES Division, General Anton Marder_

That was the same guy Blisk had talked about, the one overseeing everything here on Erebus. Was there not anything in here that could tell him what Marder was looking for? Tobias navigated back, and selected 'related projects'. Inside, there were only two entries.

_[PROJECT: ATLANTIS]_

_[PROJECT: INFERNO]_

He felt chills cascade up his spine as he read the second entry. He now knew Project Atlantis to be the excavation and research of all these 'Architect' ruins for use as tools the IMC could use, like the fold-weapon. But Project Inferno ... that was a mystery to him.

He opened it.

_/ Project Inferno is a secondary project being headed by the ARES Division of the IMC under the purview of General Marder with Spyglass's approval. It is the goal of the project to procure an Architect artifact known as 'the Codex'._

_/ The Codex is an artifact or device of unknown qualities that represented great importance to the Architects. Records indicate that this Codex was tied to the expansion of their civilization, namely through its relationship to the Plexus installations. It was finally located at site 127-D on Erebus; however, attempts to interact with it have yielded unexpected complications._

_/ All who have attempted physical contact with the Codex thus far report experiencing visual and auditory hallucinations, and find themselves unable to remove it from its pedestal. These hallucinations are not yet understood—it is believed that they contain some kind of mnemonic effect that erases any memory of the illusions, and prevents those afflicted from describing them. Subjects find themselves disoriented and confused, unsure of what transpired between them touching the Codex and collapsing on the floor._

_/ These events corroborate with partial transcriptions from recovered records that refer to the Codex; only an individual that fulfills select criteria may possess the Codex. What these criteria are is unknown. The individual in question is revered by the Architects as 'the Inferno', and becomes marked as its keeper._

_/ The Codex is a necessary component in the activation of a Plexus installation. Therefore, the ultimate goal is to understand what qualifies an individual as the Inferno, and find a subject fitting those specifications. Once that objective has been achieved, Project Atlantis can proceed._

His eyes widened. So, they _had_ found what they were looking for, this Codex thing ... but they couldn't use it at all. He breathed a momentary sigh of relief, then thought better of the situation. If all they needed to do was find someone who could become 'the Inferno', then they'd just keep throwing people at it until they did. Sooner or later, they'd get what they wanted.

He shook his head to clear his mind. He could worry about what all this meant later—first, he had to find a way out of this mess.

With a click, he removed his data-knife from the slot and placed it back in its sheath on his shoulder. The ocular systems shifted back to a view of the snow burying him and KT, and he frustratedly balled his hands into fists.

"How do we make it out of this one, Kay?"

The Titan did not answer right away. After half a minute of waiting for a response, she gave a sad sigh.

_< _ **_We_ ** _can't. >_

He shook his head determinedly. "Don't say that. Think, there's got to be a way—"

_< But _ **_you_ ** _can. >_

He froze. "No. Stop, don't—"

She cut him off before he could argue. _< In my present condition ... I ... I can't move. There's ... no hope ... for me. You need... you need to leave me. >_

"Absolutely not," he snapped, his fists beginning to shake. "You better think of something else, because I didn't come all this way just to—

_< Tobias. >_

This time, he wasn't able to wipe his eyes in time. The silent tears he'd been holding back spilled over and ran down the side of his face, their path altered by his bodily orientation. "Kay ... don't make me do this."

Her voice was weighted heavily with resignation. < _We both know ... that my chassis ... is beyond repair. Now ... you are ... my only priority. >_

"But the mission—"

_< Skids asked me ... what I would choose ... if forced to either ... save your life ... or complete the objective. >_

She emitted a shuddering chuckle, one full of both warmth and regret. _< I've ... made my choice, Tobias. Though ... I may not be a good machine ... I hope ... that I am a good friend. >_

He shut his eyes, wishing he could just wake up and be somewhere, _anywhere_ other than here and having to listen to his best friend tell him to go on without her. "I promised never to abandon you, Kay. And n-now you're asking me to j-just ..."

His voice broke. "To just leave you here to die?"

 _< Please, > _she whispered, < _do this for me._ ** _Live_** _for me. >_

He remained silent for a few minutes, taking in what she was asking him to do and mentally preparing himself for what came next. When he was ready to speak, he closed his eyes and took a deep, shaky breath. "Kay... when we met on Nedar, I was broken. Broken by the war ... by my own hatred and selfishness ..."

He swallowed hard. "I had no idea that you, this strange Titan I found in the snow, would be the one to fix me. That I'd end up calling you my best friend."

 _< And I had no idea ... that you, this strange Pilot I met ... would become as dear to me as you are. > _She remembered what he'd said to her in the hangar, and her voice became overwhelmed with raw emotion.

_< You're my other half, Tobias. >_

KT switched the interior status light from red to green, not willing to let Tobias stall any longer. < _The hull ... is ready to open. With how long it's been since we've fallen ... as well as the depth of our fall ... I estimate ... there is a layer of at least six feet of snow ... between you and the surface. As soon as the hatch opens ... it will begin to fill the interior. Make your way to the surface ... as fast as you can. Use the thrusters ... on your jump kit to help you. >_

He wiped away the last of his tears, and nodded in acknowledgement before putting his helmet back on. He checked that his Flatline was securely fastened to his back, and that he had a few magazines in his belt's pouches. He looked up to the hatch's release trigger, and gripped it tightly. He flexed his fingers, and took a deep breath.

_< Good luck, Tobias. I'll miss you. >_

"I'll miss you too," he choked out. Then he tugged on the trigger.

The hatch only moved up a foot or so before it jammed, unable to continue with the weight of so much snow atop it. The white powder began trickling in from the small gap of access it had, and he quickly moved to press his hands against the hatch and shove it farther.

With the door now about halfway open, the snow began to pour down in earnest. He scrambled to pull himself up and out before he was completely buried within the hull.

Now out of the interior, he could feel the weight of the snow above threatening to push him back down and envelop him. He made ready to jump up and climb to the surface—

_Kay, I promise; I will never abandon you. Even when you eventually get sick of my bad jokes, the sad fact is that you're stuck with me. Okay?_

His own words echoed back to him, a reminder of his promise to Kay—the one he was about to break. He grit his teeth, and looked down as snow continued to dribble down around his body and to his feet.

_No. I won't do it._

Working against the clock as he stood in a nearly-literal hourglass of snow, he moved to one side and forced the hatch back down to where he could stand on it. Once it was in position, he placed his body above it and hunched over to shield it so that nothing came down and buried what he was looking for.

KT's optic was still blue in color, but wasn't lit up anymore. She'd entered standby mode, just like when he'd brought the extra battery back to her. He grunted with pain as his injured arm strained to maintain its position, resisting the pressure and weight of the impending frost above.

He quickly felt around for the release mechanism, his fingers scrambling to find it through what little he could see under here. One of them brushed it, and he pressed down hard on where he thought it was. Clasps around the data-core opened up, and he hurriedly reached in and slid it out of its receptacle.

With his prize now in hand, he quickly leapt up as far as he could through the ice. As expected, he only made it a few inches before he felt himself get stuck as the snow adjusted to his body and filled in the spaces around him.

With one arm extended high above him, he tried to wiggle it around as much as he could. Slowly, he felt the powder around it break apart and shift, becoming loose and allowing his hand to move freely. He splayed out his fingers, using their width to provide him leverage while simultaneously activating his jump kit's thrusters. The end result was that he slowly but surely propelled himself upward. He reached his other arm up, and activated the thrusters again.

And again.

And again.

_I am not going to die here, so help me—!_

He felt both of his hands break through the cold, hard crust of snow at the top. With both of his arms completely exposed, he used them to grab handfuls of the ground around him and pull the rest of his body up. He kicked and thrusted several more times before finally, he propelled himself out of the hole and onto the hardened snow nearby. He wheezed in exertion as he looked up at the sky, his first view above ground in over an hour.

The snow around him felt hard to the touch, likely frozen over with ice from the night temperatures. Groaning, he stood up and looked at the hole he'd just crawled from. It had sunken in on itself, and once again buried the Titan chassis hidden below.

He held his hands up to the front of his helmet, looking at the data-core secure in his grasp. Emblazoned on the side was an ID.

_KT-0298._

He held it close to his chest, and closed his eyes tightly. "It's not over, Kay. I promise, I'm gonna get you out of here. _I promise."_

With nothing left to keep him here, he looked out into the dark landscape of Erebus. Somewhere out there in that frozen wasteland was site 127-D ... and he was going to find it. The ARES Division wanted this Codex, so that meant he had to take it from them.

With one tentative step after another, he began a new journey towards the barest glimmer of hope he still had left.


	23. Forced Evolution

**_POST-INCIDENT REPORT_ **

**_Summary:_ ** _Four (4) Pilots belonging to the squad designated as Foxtrot-3, AKA 'the Heartless', stole a Crow, a Widow, and four (4) Titan chassises under the ownership of a Crusader-class frigate, the MCS Griffin. After going AWOL, they launched a personal investigation on the planet Erebus to determine the activities of the IMC forces stationed there. They remained on the planet for eight (8) days._

_After attempting to steal intel from an outpost they found, Pilots Vale and Four were compromised. Vale's body was destroyed, and Pilots Crane and McFarlane were forced to evacuate without Pilot Four._

**_Officers Involved:_ ** _CWO Tobias Four, WO Amelia Vale, SGT Tyra Crane, SGT Robert McFarlane_

**_Losses:_ ** _One (1) Ronin-class Titan chassis, one (1) Scorch-class Titan chassis, one (1) modified Atlas-class Titan chassis, one (1) Ion-class Titan chassis, one (1) simulacrum body, one (1) AI data-core_

**_Resolution:_ ** _Crane and McFarlane flew back to the MCS Griffin via a stolen IMC Goblin-class dropship. Upon arrival, they were subsequently apprehended and arrested for deserting. Three (3) AI data-cores were recovered from their possession, and installed in vacant Titan chassises. During interrogation, both Pilots claimed to have discovered alien ruins on the planet that had been excavated and studied extensively by the IMC._

_The stream of memory data emitted on Pilot Vale's 'death' was received by the MCS Griffin seventeen (17) hours after the incident, and recompiled with a backup of Vale's consciousness. She was re-uploaded into another simulacrum body, then arrested and questioned as well. Her story corroborated with theirs, and she claimed that Pilot Four had proof of the IMC's activity concerning the alien ruins on his data-knife, not knowing that Four had been left behind on Erebus._

_As of now, there is no evidence aside from their aligned testimony to support any of their claims. The three of them have been confined to the brig and await their court-martial._

_Four and KT-0298 have been listed as MIA._

**_Personal Comments:_ ** _... You promised me you'd come back, Tobias._

_Why did I let you go on that stupid ship? Why did I listen to you? If I had just grounded the damn thing, you'd still be alive. But you got in my head—you, with your awful jokes and smartass remarks ... you made me feel something for you I haven't felt for anyone before. You made me feel like I could do anything, go anywhere, be anyone—and it would be fine, because you would have been right there with me._

_So I let you go. I let you leave so you could galavant off and save the frontier like the hero you were trying to be. You told me that you were going against Briggs' orders, and damn the consequences, because there were too many lives at stake to chance being wrong. And I believed you—I thought, 'What if he's right? What if we don't do anything, and it turns out we could have made the difference?'_

_So I let you go. And now you're dead. And I'm going to have to live with knowing I was the one who killed you._

_— Captain Elizabeth Gates  
  
_

**— 6 DAYS LATER —  
  
**

Out in the arctic tundra of Erebus, a trail of footprints could be seen before they were gradually covered by the snowfall. When followed, those tracks led to the top of a small rise in the land and ended at the feet of a fallen figure, one who was currently trying to drag themselves across the ice.

His legs had failed him due to sheer exhaustion. Tobias was now trying to progress forward on willpower alone, but he was finding that to be quickly fading. His rations were gone, he had no idea where he was going, and his armor's thermostat systems had finally failed. Now, he was essentially buying time before he froze to death or starved—whichever came first.

The only thing that kept urging him forward was the thought of saving KT.

The data-core was hooked to his belt, the only safe place he had for it. If he died, so would she; her core would be stuck here to be buried and never recovered. Her fate rested on his shoulders and the assumption that he made it back to a chassis he could put her in.

And so, he pushed on. Or rather, he was trying to.

The wind picked up, drowning out his own inner thoughts which had become fuzzy over the time he'd spent out here. His mind had begun to blur the line between reality and delusion, and he found his mental processes weakening to the point of almost becoming incoherent.

On the surface, his body followed the most basic order of natural instinct; survive. But somewhere deep in his tired psyche, he knew that he was shutting down. No human being was equipped to survive in these conditions for this long, and he was going to become yet another statistic added to the list.

His head crashed down on the pillow of white that threatened to swallow him up. He thought about how soft it was, how nice it would be to just take a nap here ... to rest for a while, and then go back to doing ... doing what he ... what he ...

... Wait.

With a grunt, he lifted his head up again to confirm what he was saying. There, in a wall of ice off to his left—there was an opening. A cave.

He noticed a few marker poles outside of it. Evidently, he wasn't the first to discover it; it was probably another excavation site. Each of the poles had a small flag tethered to them, little orange flags that flapped with every gust of wind that hit them. He tried to read the black lettering on them, using his HUD to zoom in and focus ...

_127-D._

His eyes widened. "Well ... I'll be damned."

Adrenaline began to flow into his veins, and he found his arms and legs picking themselves up from the snow without conscious thought. Everything felt like it was on autopilot, now—he stumbled forward towards the opening, his legs shuffling in an unbalanced fashion as both the numbing cold and lack of circulation meant that he couldn't feel them at all—

He tripped, and gave a small shout of surprise as he found himself tumbling down the declining slope and right into the mouth of the cave.

The ground beneath him suddenly dropped off, and he fell into darkness. After a moment, he slammed into the ground and rolled across the ice as it audibly cracked beneath his weight. He let out a pained groan as he felt his right forearm collide with the hardened snow and ignite with pain down its center like a string of firecrackers.

When the pain had calmed down somewhat, he looked up to notice that this cave was not purely a natural formation. On all sides were walls of ice, but they all gradually transitioned into metal that seemed to be frozen within them—the underlying structure of an Architect ruin. The walls and snowy ground gave way to a series of dark halls and passages that beckoned him further in.

He lifted himself up to one knee, then up onto his feet. He retrieved his Flatline from his back, and held it out in his hands. With no small amount of caution, he stepped forward and entered the labyrinth.

His footsteps echoed in the silent crypt, the only noise now that the sound of the wind outside had disappeared. Visibility was limited to small floor lamps that had been placed every three meters or so, so he flicked on the flashlight equipped to the underside of his weapon. It wasn't much, but it at least illuminated his path forward. The hallway he was in stretched on for quite some distance.

"You think the Codex is around here somewhere?" he asked aloud, as though he were talking to KT's data-core at his side.

It did not reply.

Without warning, there was a small red flash. He held his arm up instinctively, and peered ahead. There was an adjoining passage that ran perpendicular to the one he was standing in, and he watched the glow disappear around the left corner.

"What the hell was that?" he muttered, his eyes wide with concern. At this point, he couldn't tell what was real and what was his head just playing tricks with him thanks to delirium.

He looked down to the core on his belt, watching it intently as though it were speaking to him.

He nodded. "Yeah, you're right—I'm not gonna get any answers sitting here."

Moving up to the junction, he cautiously peeked his head around the corner. The floor turned into an incline that led to another set of halls and passages above. His curiosity piqued, he forged ahead.

The faint red glow was never fully in sight, always just out of the range of his vision. For every step he took, it kept itself two ahead. Was this one of the hallucinations the project file had warned him of? What was it doing? Trying to show him something? Lure him somewhere?

For how apparently dead these ruins were ... he couldn't shake the feeling that he wasn't alone in them.

Turning a corner, he found himself faced with a wide, inclining hallway, this one stretching upwards for roughly twenty meters—but the shadows around him had given way to a faint red light at the top. Was there something up there?

As he made the ascent, his noticed the air around him getting colder. Apparently, this path led outside. Sure enough, he reached the top and found himself stepping onto an open platform of some sort, one connected to the rest of the structure with sturdy rails—

He felt his breath catch in his chest as he registered what was in front of him. He wasn't sure what he'd been expecting, but it hadn't been ... _this._

The facility he'd come through was just one small section of a greater construct, a construct which stretched for hundreds of meters to his left and right until they curved inward and eventually met at some distance in front of him, forming an enormous circle. The platform he stood on was a mezzanine situated between the higher and lower levels, one that overlooked a massive crater—and by god, did it have a view.

In the center of the crater was a set of rings, superimposed within one another. He recognized their shape from the display he'd seen back on Tyche.

"The fold-weapon," he breathed.

Thankfully, it appeared to be derelict—it was completely still and frosted over with ice. But even from here, he could tell something was amiss. It looked different compared to its holographic counterpart; each of the rings were a dull bronze in color, and perfectly smooth. The rings he'd seen in the display had been ridged, segmented—and much, _much_ smaller than what he saw here.

The red light returned, stealing his attention for the time being. He looked to the center of the platform he stood on, and saw a small dais with a pedestal atop it—that was where the glow was coming from. He stepped forward, drawn almost hypnotically to find out what it was.

The top of it was concave, like a bowl. Upon reaching it, he looked down and noted several engraved lines that started at the ends of the bowl and swirled around the interior until they all connected at a minute, circular space in the center. Within that space was a crystalline orb, one small enough fit in the palm of his hand. A soft red pulse emanated from it every few seconds, lighting it up as though illuminated from the inside.

His mind raced with a flurry of thoughts. This was it, _this was the Codex._ His first thought was to simply take it, but then he remembered what he'd read about it—how no one had been able to remove it thus far, how everyone had been deemed inadequate to be the Inferno. He recalled something about a mnemonic effect following any interaction—would it scramble his brains even further if he tried to mess with it?

Did he dare risk it?

He looked down to his side at the cylinder attached to his hip, and clenched his jaw.

_Screw it._

He reached out and grabbed the orb.

He waited with bated breath for something otherworldly to occur, for some cataclysmic event to strike him—but it simply hummed in his hand. To his immense surprise, it came out of the pedestal as easily any other stone of its size might. It was warm to the touch, like it had been sitting near a fire for some time. He inspected it, turning it at different angles to see if there was anything of visual interest engraved on it, perhaps the same symbols he'd seen on the ruins. But the only noteworthy detail he could find was how perfectly smooth it was. In fact, he'd go so far as to say—

His earlier expectation of a supernatural experience was immediately validated as tendrils of red light exploded from the orb, swirling around in the air with a fluidity akin to liquid flame. His heart pounded as he tried to keep track of them, trying to decide whether or not he should be trying to run as fast and far away as he could. Before he could come to a conclusion, one of the tendrils plunged into his chest. There was no physical penetration of his skin, but he could feel it inside of him nonetheless. Hot, molten energy traveled up his spine, and set his veins ablaze—

**...**

Gates burst onto the bridge of the ship, Dimitri at her side, and pushed her way through the traffic of officers and techs that were practically running from one side of the room to the other in a furious panic. She saw an image of Commander Briggs standing on the holo-table, watching them all and issuing orders intermittently.

Gates motioned to the hologram, calling her attention to herself and Dimitri. "Briggs, what's going on? It's like everyone in here's gone mad!"

Briggs turned to her and let out a stressed breath. _"Gates, you have no idea. Get your team ready for a ground deployment within the hour. The Griffin is the closest ship of ours to Erebus, so that means you're all we've got at the moment."_

Gates jerked her head back. "Erebus? I thought—I thought you said we were done with it?"

Briggs nodded her virtual head towards one of the personnel on hand. _"Fill her in."_

The woman turned towards Gates. "Captain, three minutes ago we picked up an unknown energy reading—a _massive_ energy reading."

Gates narrowed her eyes. " _How_ massive?"

"It was large enough to have been detected from fifteen thousand light-years away in either direction."

Dimitri whistled. "That's past the frontier and then some."

Gates scrunched her face in confusion. "How is that possible? Light only travels so fast—"

"There was no travel time," the technician replied. "Something like this is completely unprecedented—the entire cosmic region just lit up at once in unison."

Another display was thrust into view next to Briggs, a model of the Milky Way. Roughly a third of it was highlighted in a red sphere, its color darkening the further away from its center. And at that focal point was a white-hot point of light that seemed to be responsible for it all.

"The only way I can see this being possible is if there were higher dimensions involved—something that could break the laws of quantum mechanics as we understand them."

_Using this weapon in any capacity would not only register readings on every energy counter from here to the core worlds, but would affect the very fabric of the time-space continuum and cause temporal distortions wherever and whenever each side of the wormhole connected._

Gates looked up at Briggs who stared back at her, each of them obviously remembering the latter's reasoning for not clearing the mission to assault Erebus previously.

"And let me guess—it originated from Erebus," the Captain muttered dryly. "Could the fold-weapon have done this?"

Briggs' expression was hard to read. _"We're not sure of anything yet, but it's possible. That's why we can't delay—I need everyone on your station ready for combat ASAP."_ She paused, then sighed with what sounded like remorse. _"I made a bad call—looks like Four was right."_

Gates felt her gut clench at the mention of his name, much like it had a week ago when she'd learned that he'd been left behind on Erebus.

"Yeah. He was."

**...**

**_You are ... different._ **

A voice spoke to him, echoing from all directions at once like a haunting chorus.He analyzed his surroundings, trying to discern what exactly had just happened. Everywhere around him was dark, nothing but blackness. He brought both hands to his chest, feeling for any sign of the tendril that had pierced it—but there was no wound.

He stood on what seemed to be water—but he didn't sink into it. Instead, each movement simply sent ripples cascading across the surface and into the shadows. Red lights flickered in the distant horizon, like an unending cataclysm rolling through.

"What is this?" he asked aloud, turning about to look at the void-scape that surrounded him. Whoever had spoken to him eluded his sight from somewhere within the darkness—

**_You are not like the others who came here._ **

He felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up—or maybe he didn't, and he just thought he did. He wasn't sure if any of this was even real. "The others?"

**_The ones who came before you. They were not entwined, as you are—and you do not seek to use our gift as they did._ **

The pieces were falling into place. "Are ... are you the Architects?"

**_We are an imprint of those who crafted the galaxy to their desire, the Architects of your world. We are what remains—all of their memories, all of their secrets ... all of their power._ **

He tried to process this gem of information as best he could—but he had to admit, it was a bit much to take in. "T-That's ... that's what the Codex is? Knowledge?"

**_The Codex is a living archive of our people and their collective consciousness, and more. It is a metaphysical source of energy that allows its wielder, the Inferno, to manipulate reality in ways otherwise not possible._ **

The meaning of their words sank in. "Like temporal distortions," he murmured to himself, "ripples in time and space. Is that what the IMC want it for? To make the fold-weapon work?"

The voice sounded disappointed. **_This 'fold-weapon' you refer to is a device we called a Plexus installation. We built a network of them spanning more than half the galaxy, allowing instantaneous travel from one installation to another. The others that came before you have butchered its purpose, and intend to use it as a blunt instrument to unleash destruction the likes of which your kind has never seen._**

He felt a lump grow in his throat at that last line. "So the Codex powers the fold—er, these 'Plexus installations'?"

**_No, but it creates their fuel supply; the Arks._ **

"The Arks?"

**_Concentrated ingots of energy siphoned off from the Codex. Each Plexus installation requires an Ark to function, and only the Inferno can create an Ark. You must stop them before they find another to become the Inferno._ **

That made sense so far—he remembered the explanation Briggs had given them, how the fold-weapons utilized the power of a wormhole to fire waves of focused gravity at its target. These Arks would have to have similar properties if they were able to bend the fabric of reality. That also explained why they needed someone to be the Inferno—they needed to harvest an Ark from the Codex.

Still, something was bothering him. "What's your stake in all this? Why do you care about stopping them from getting the Codex?" He wanted to know what exactly these Architects' intentions were before agreeing to anything.

For a long moment, the voice was silent.

 ** _We bestowed this gift out of necessity, not generosity,_** it revealed quietly, its tone dark. **_There is a greater threat in play, one that will destroy you and everything you hold dear if not stopped—and these others you fight will all but seal the fate of your civilization if they succeed._**

His mouth became very dry. "I'm sorry— _what?"_

**_An abomination that drove us to extinction. Even at the height of our reign, we were unable to stand against it. Everything we'd ever known was stolen from us before our very eyes ... and it will do the same to you._ **

Without warning, horrific images began to flicker in his head. He saw a world torn asunder by carnage and mayhem. Bodies lay strewn about in masses, a testament to the tragedy that had befallen this place—

Screams pierced his mind as the living ran from twisted, broken forms hovering at the edge of his sight. Twitching, as though their jerky movements were not entirely their own. He found himself crawling away in terror, his chest filled with the fear of an entire race as they were stalked relentlessly by the physical incarnation of death itself—

Above everything was a watchful eye, a vengeful, sadistic god hellbent on tormenting its subjects before turning them into _it—_

He opened his eyes to find himself shrieking incoherently and holding his arms up to shield himself. Shakily rising to his feet, he looked out at the void-scape and tried to keep himself from hyperventilating. "What the hell was that?!"

 ** _That is what you face if humanity does not stand unified,_** the voice answered simply. **_If these foes of yours triumph, your people will be too broken to defend themselves. The evil will sweep through the galaxy once more, and nothing will be able to prevent it from wiping it clean of life._**

"How do we stop them?!" he asked hysterically, the images still fresh in his mind. "How do I stop— _that?!"_

**_Before our demise, we created a plan and set it in motion. You must travel to the world of storms and find the guide we left behind—they will explain everything._ **

The voice paused. **_But first ... you must not let your enemies possess the Codex._**

"And how do I do that?"

**_You must become the Inferno._ **

For a moment, he wasn't sure he heard right. "Come again?"

**_If you do not take the Codex, your oppressors will eventually find someone who will. This is the only way—you must become the Inferno, and take the Codex for yourself. Keep its power from falling into the wrong hands._ **

"How do you know you can trust me?"

**_Because you asked._ **

He felt much like he had when Briggs had made him a Chief Warrant Officer—he didn't want to be the one leading others. He didn't want to be responsible for others' lives—it was one thing to save someone and fail, it was another thing altogether to know you were the reason they died. And becoming the Inferno after everything he'd been told ... he wasn't sure he was the right person to be in charge of something so important.

But the Architects, or whatever this voice was, had made it clear—there were no other options on hand. And after what he'd seen in their memories ... he'd do whatever it took to stop that from happening again.

He breathed in and out a few times, psyching himself up for whatever came next. There wasn't time to think things over—this was something that had to happen here and now.

"I'm ready," he growled, tensing himself up.

**_Prepare._ **

A red flower of light appeared in front of him. A burning blaze of all the energy within the Codex compressed into one fiery instance. He watched as it dove into the middle of his chest, and a crimson glow swam throughout his body until even his fingertips were shining. Arteries and veins were illuminated underneath his skin, and he felt a white-hot sensation penetrate his mind like a needle.

There was the most intense feeling of pain and power that he'd ever known, and then—


	24. Shattered Trust

—he opened his eyes, only to close them again as he recoiled from a sudden brightness in front him.

"Oi! Rise and shine, eh?"

He froze upon hearing that voice, and forced his eyelids open to confirm what he thought he'd heard. Indeed, it was none other than Blisk in front of him. The mercenary was shining a flashlight in Tobias' face, and looking down at him with a grin of begrudging respect. Tobias looked to his left and right to see that he was kneeling on the ground with a rifleman flanking either side of him. His helmet lay at his side on the ground, staring back up at him.

"Can you hear me? Anyone in there?"

He blinked a few times to try and quell the disorientation that plagued him. Everything seemed blurry, so he tried to focus on Blisk for the time being. At seeing Tobias' responsiveness, Blisk nodded approvingly and removed the light. "There we go, I can see you're paying attention now."

He wasn't in the ruins anymore, he was in some kind of building. A large observation window could be seen behind Blisk, and he noticed they were on a higher floor of a presumably multi-level complex. The facility was octagonal-shaped and formed a perimeter around a snowy courtyard in its center. Down in the courtyard below, IMC Titans and personnel were milling about and carrying out their daily tasks.

Blisk followed his gaze out the window. "Welcome to the main ARES compound on Erebus. We're sittin' pretty at the edge of the arctic circle, nothing but dig-sites and frozen wastelands for miles." He threw his hands behind his back, and made them grip each other in a thoughtful sort of stance. "Honestly, it was an engineering nightmare having to keep this place from getting snowed in every time a squall rolled 'round. But then they installed a heat-shield generator, and voila; blizzard outside the bubble, light snowfall inside."

He turned away from the window and faced Tobias. "I've got to hand it to you, I'm even more impressed than I was when we first met. Most men wouldn't have survived two days out in that weather, let alone a week—and you lived to tell the tale even after falling off a cliff."

Tobias glared at him. "How did I get here?"

The mercenary nodded at his question, deeming it a fair one. "As of two hours ago, the eggheads got turned 'round in a panic as they detected some kind of energy flare at site 127-D. From what I'm told, the amount released from it was more than enough to send this entire system to kingdom come—yet, here we are." He grinned. "So I get sent out to investigate, and what do I find? You, twitching on the observation platform with _this_ in hand."

Reaching one hand into a pouch on his belt, he pulled out the Codex. It still held a red glow, though it was noticeably weaker than he remembered it being. "The techs here said that it was quantum-locked, put into some kind of safeguard mechanism by the Architects. They've been trying to remove this thing for ages, but never could find anyone it liked enough—well, until now. Seems you got it on the first try, eh?"

He held it out to his prisoner with an expression that clearly was ordering Tobias to grab it. Without any other options, the Pilot tentatively retrieved it from the mercenary's grasp.

Nothing out of the ordinary happened. It still felt somewhat warm in his hands, but he didn't know if that was its own doing or if it had just sat in Blisk's pouch too long. Blisk seemed disappointed, but shrugged it off.

"Didn't think that was going to work, but figured it was worth a try." He looked out the window again, his back to Tobias.

"So here's the deal, Four; I've already collected that bounty on your head. Turns out that falling off a cliff tends to convince people you're dead—so, I don't have any real desire to kill you anymore." He turned back slightly, and chuckled at the surprised look on Tobias' face. "Weren't expecting that, I see. Well, it's the truth—at first, I thought you were nothing but a lousy deserter. But you've shown conviction, cunning, and a level of skill beyond what I would have expected—you've earned my respect, and it's not easy to do that."

With slow, methodical steps, Blisk walked over to him and crouched down to his level. "My team needs people like you. People with the kind of drive to do whatever it takes to get the job done."

Tobias' eyes narrowed. Before he could protest the offer, Blisk held his hand up. "I don't care if you refuse, that's fine. It's no skin off my back whether I have to recruit you or kill you. And we've still got unfinished business before you come to any decision, so it's just something to think about after."

Blisk held one of his hands with the other, balancing his elbows on his knees. "See, I still have to fulfill _this_ part of the contract. ARES has been wanting their hands on this Codex for quite a while. So you're going to get it working again, or—"

"I know—they want it to make an Ark for the fold-weapon," he interrupted.

Blisk didn't seem surprised by anything Tobias knew anymore, and simply nodded. "That's right. So—"

"But it isn't what they think it is, Blisk," Tobias continued. "The Codex—the Architects left it behind for a reason, they wanted to help us. Something else is coming, something you don't—"

Suddenly, a reel of ancient recollections flashed through his mind's eye again.

_The rings, spinning and flowing with boundless power as they unleashed their inferno across the cosmos—_

_A great, writhing mass, a living tempest that consumed the planet and formed a towering wave of corpses that came crashing down on—_

_Worlds burning to cinders as the desperate became fanatical in their yearning to impede the monstrosity's path by any means—_

Just as quickly as they manifested, they vanished again. He collapsed on the floor, trying to catch his breath while Blisk stared at him with an expression of bewilderment.

"They ... they can't have it, Blisk. If they get the Codex, they'll kill us all. Not just the Militia—everyone," he choked out, looking up into Blisk's eyes with a pitiful sort of pleading.

While Blisk had initially seemed stunned by Tobias' episode, his eyes narrowed and his face hardened. "Sorry, Four—but theatrics aren't going to get you out of this one."

The mercenary motioned to one of the Riflemen, and held his hand out as they placed something within it. "I thought you might be a difficult nut to crack, so I made sure to have some incentive on hand." He held the object out for Tobias to see it, and the Pilot felt his blood run cold.

KT's data-core.

"You wouldn't have kept this with you unless it was important." The mercenary held the data core up to his face, and inspected the side of it. "KT-0298 ... That your Titan? Must be a good one—a lot of people would just move on and get a new one, but you..." He chuckled. "Well, you're not most people, are you?"

Tobias' eyes darted from the data-core to Blisk, and he grit his teeth angrily. "You have _no_ idea."

Without warning, Blisk unsheathed a knife and stabbed downward into the lens of the core with one swift movement. Tobias' eyes widened, and he cried out in fear for KT's life.

The mercenary rotated the core to show him his handiwork. The knife was stuck in, though not very deep; the optic was cracked where the blade had broken through the outer casing, but nothing vital had been damaged ... yet.

Blisk pursed his lips. "I need you to understand; I'm not doing this because I enjoy it. I know you—you don't give two shits about your own life, and would just as soon throw it away as fight for it. But someone you care about?" He gestured to the core. "So I'll tell you again—I need you to get that Codex in working order. Otherwise, I'll start cutting. Who knows? I might let you have a piece of it as a souvenir."

He thought of all the things he'd like to do to Blisk in that moment, all of the ways he could make the mercenary hurt—and then he thought back to KT, how she was ignorant to the fact that her very life depended on him and how he responded here.

_Trust me._

She'd never let him down before—he couldn't just turn his back on her now, not when she'd risked so much for him.

"Please, no! Just—just don't hurt her, and I'll cooperate. I'll tell you what I know. But don't hurt her, _please."_

Blisk stared at him for a long moment, his expression unreadable.

Unexpectedly, he complied. "Alright. I believe you."

Blisk pulled out the knife from the optic, and held the core out to him as a show of trust. Tobias grabbed it quickly, and held it gently in his arms.

_I'm so sorry, Kay. I'm so sorry._

Blisk sheathed the knife, and let his hands rest on his knees casually. "Now, where were we—?"

No one in the room was prepared for the abrupt explosion of metal and fire that erupted outside, and could be seen stretching up into the sky through the observation window. Blisk spun about with a shocked expression, and held a device on his wrist up to his mouth. "This is Blisk—what the bloody hell is happening?"

Tobias couldn't hear the response on the other end, but Blisk clearly wasn't happy about it. He swore and stood up to get a better look at the smoking courtyard. "I don't want excuses, I want to know why the hell the Militia are on our doorstep—"

Two canisters suddenly rolled into the room from a doorway on the left, and popped with a hiss of smoke emanating from them. The fog quickly filled up the entirety of the room, obscuring everyone's vision. The riflemen raised their weapons as they prepared to fend off whatever came through the doorway, but they were taken down without a fight by two muzzle flashes that appeared from within the smoke.

Not one to fight a losing battle, Blisk cursed loudly and drew his pistol. He fired into the observation window, shattering it, then jumped out and down to the courtyard below, leaving Tobias alone with the Codex, KT's core, and the intruders.

"Clear!" came a voice, one that sounded vaguely familiar.

"Got a Pilot here!" called another from somewhere in his vicinity, obviously referring to him, and he _definitely_ recognized that voice.

As the smoke cleared, five figures were revealed to be standing in the room with him; Dimitri, Bear, the two rookies from the operation on the Kraken, Davis and Droz ... and Gates.

They all froze upon seeing him—obviously, he was not what they had expected to find. After a few moments of stunned silence where the two parties just stared at one another, Gates rushed forward and slid into place next to him, grabbing his shoulders and patting his body to ensure he was real.

"Is ... is it really you? Y-You're alive?" she asked, her voice quiet as though trying to keep herself from daring to hope it was true.

For a split second, he couldn't recall having felt happier—then he remembered what Blisk had revealed to him about an inside-man, and the revelation that Gates was a spy came rushing back to him. He didn't want to let on that he knew, however, so he looked into her eyes and put on a fake smile.

"As alive as the day I left."

She gave a wet, relieved laugh, and took her helmet off. As her chestnut eyes met his, she placed her hands on either side of his face and pulled him into a kiss. When she finally broke away, there were tears running down her cheeks. "I thought ... I thought I'd lost you! Everyone else came back, and they said you'd fallen off a cliff ..."

She trailed off, becoming too overwhelmed to continue. For an act, she was pulling it off pretty well.

Dimitri stepped forward and filled in the blanks. "From what they told us, we pretty much assumed you were a goner. Nice to know that we were wrong." He extended a hand, and helped Tobias to his feet. "Good to see you, Four."

Tobias grinned. "Likewise, Dee." He turned to face the rest of them. "Now, I don't mean to sound self-important, but why are you here if you had no idea I was alive?"

Bear pointed to some kind of tracking device on his wrist. "We detected a massive energy spike a few hours ago originating from Erebus. We thought that maybe you'd been right, that the IMC had gotten the fold-weapon working after all. We were sent down here to track it down ... but instead, we found you."

He realized what they must be tracking, and he lifted up his hand holding the Codex. "Is this what you're looking for?"

Bear's tracker made an audible beep that made him look down to check it before turning his head up again. "Seems like it. Don't know how this is possible—that thing's giving off enough energy to obliterate this planet, its star, and more—"

"And somehow, we're all still standing," Dimitri finished. "What _is_ that thing, Four?"

"I'll explain later, Dee," Tobias replied, grabbing his helmet from the ground and putting it back on. "What matters right now is keeping it the hell away from the IMC."

Droz hefted his rifle up. "Sounds like a plan to me."

Gates stared at him as though making sure that he wouldn't disappear from her sight the moment she looked away. "Well, the objective's complete—there's no point in sticking around. I assume you wouldn't object to us getting you out of here?"

He shook his head vehemently. "No, I'm fine with being the damsel in distress if it means I get rescued."

She chuckled, and beckoned with her arm. "Come on then, move your ass. Follow us."

Gates walked out the door, followed by Bear, Davis, and Droz. Dimitri started to follow, but Tobias grabbed his arm and forced him to hang back.

"What the—what is it, Four?"

"Someone's been feeding information about us to the IMC, someone close to me," he hissed under his breath. "Watch Gates—you can't trust her."

Dimitri turned to look at the door, and then faced Tobias again. "No, you've got it wrong—I've known her far too long, there's no way she'd do anything like that. Why would you—?"

"The mercenary here, Blisk, pretty much confirmed it," Tobias whispered urgently. "Just—just be careful with her, okay?"

Dimitri hesitated for a moment longer, contemplating Tobias' request. Eventually, he nodded. "Okay. I'll keep my eye on her."

He sighed in relief—Dimitri believed him, so that put him one step ahead of Gates in this scheme she was orchestrating. They both finally walked out of the room to find her standing impatiently at the end of the hall with the other three. "What's taking you two so long? Time is somewhat of the essence here."

"Sorry, thought I saw one of the riflemen back there move," Dimitri lied. "Wanted to make sure he was really dead."

She stared at the two of them questioningly, but moved past it and opened a comlink channel. "Griffin, this is the 6-4. We've got the package."

_"What is it?"_

She looked over at Tobias. "You wouldn't believe it. In any matter, we need extraction immediately; this place is crawling with IMC."

_"The base has anti-air defenses stationed around its perimeter. We're having a hard time landing any birds in the area without them getting shot down—we won't be able to assist with an extraction until those turrets are offline."_

"Dammit," Gates swore, her hands tightening into fists. After a moment or two, she nodded her head. "Understood, Griffin. We'll find a way to shut those turrets down."

With a sigh, she looked back at the rest of the team and lifted her R-201 assault carbine up from her hip. "Alright, people—looks like we're earning some overtime."


	25. Assault on Erebus

Moving as a group, the six of them pushed through the halls back the way the 6-4 had come from. Bodies of riflemen and other Pilots who had fallen victim to the elite group of freelancers' fire littered the corridor, a somewhat grisly sight.

As they ran, Droz stopped for a moment to reach down and grab a rifle from one of the corpses, tossing it to Tobias; a Flatline. He strapped it to his back, and looked at Gates. "Seems like you guys were pretty busy."

"This complex is bigger than it looks," explained Gates. "Took us a while to navigate through it and get to you—not our fault these guys got in our way. But we're about to be a whole lot busier if we don't take down the compound's anti-air defenses. Most of the assault is taking place from the upper atmosphere, but there's a sizable number of our men on the ground occupying the IMC's other forces."

She placed herself against the side of a doorframe, peeked around to make sure it was clear, then beckoned everyone forward as she passed through. "Without extraction, they're all as good as dead—same goes for us. And none of our ships can get close enough with those turrets firing at anything that flies by."

"So, what's the plan?" chirped Davis as they ran.

"Shutting them down is our top priority, but our people in the courtyard need more support." She pointed back at Bear, Davis, and Droz. "You three will assist them while Dee, Four and I find a way to take those guns down."

They nodded in agreement, but Dimitri seemed unconvinced. "Are you sure that's the best idea? I think we'd be more effective if we stuck together—"

Gates shook her head. "We should be more than capable of handling the guns ourselves. I'm trying not to lose any more people than we already have."

Dimitri nodded reluctantly, and looked over to Tobias with an apprehensive look. It sounded like Gates was trying to split them up, to make things easier if her cover was blown and push came to shove. He nodded back subtly, trying to show Dee that he'd be ready to back him up if it came to that.

"Alright, this way."

She led them down another corridor, and Tobias took a moment to look out of a window. One of the segments of the 'octagon' that made up the base's structure was actually an enormous, gaping entrance to the facility's courtyard, a field several hundred meters across and filled with nothing but ground troops on both sides locked in a bloody engagement. Titans stomped around the battleground as Pilots and riflemen traded fire with one another—it was shaping up to be a massacre.

Gates suddenly stopped as the sounds of approaching soldiers began coming from the hall ahead of them. From the sounds of it, it was a group much larger than any they'd encountered so far—maybe not the wisest idea to face them head-on. Gates looked at the window which he'd glanced out of. "Change of plans, team."

Davis groaned. "Ugh, I'm never great at sticking the landing."

"You better improve quick!" With the sounds of the soldiers rapidly descending upon them, Gates waved them all towards the window. "Everyone, move!"

Clutching the data-core and Codex tightly in his hands, he ran with the rest of them and jumped straight through the window. There was the sound of glass breaking, and a moment where they seemed suspended in the air; then, gravity took hold once more. They plummeted through the air towards the snowy ground, and he readied his jump-kit—

Before he could activate it, however, large, metal hands grabbed him and the others out of the air. He looked around in confusion to find himself and Dimitri in the grip of a Tone-class Titan, one with the standard black and gold carbon-fiber paint job that all new chassises started with.

"We saw you six falling, and thought you might want some help," came a feminine voice from a similarly colored Ronin to the left. In its hands were Gates and Bear, and both of them were set down gently while the Titan took a good look at their group. "Unless hitting the ground is your idea of a good time?"

"Nope," Tobias called out as the Tone lowered him to the ground. "Already done that, wasn't a fan."

The Ronin snapped its gaze toward him. "Who is ..." Vale's voice hitched as she recognized her friend. "Four?!"

He patted himself down to emphasize the point. "In the flesh!"

Next to the Ronin was a Scorch, and he had a good idea of who was in that one as they shuffled to get a good look at him.

"How the hell are you alive?!" Tyra exclaimed in shock. "I mean, I'm glad you are, obviously, but—"

"We thought you were dead for sure!" McFarlane finished, his voice coming from the Titan that had caught Tobias. "Wait, let me guess—long story?"

"Long story," he confirmed, then turned back to the 6-4. "Whatever we do, we have to do it fast—I've got to get back to the Griffin ASAP, tell Briggs about what I've learned here."

Gates nodded at Tobias. "That's the plan—but we're going to need an idea on how to shut down those guns. I don't know about you, but hacking each turret one at a time doesn't sound like the most efficient strategy."

"You don't have to do that," McFarlane piped up, hopping out of the Tone and joining Tobias on the ground. "We saw a trench around the base on the way in here, one with generators installed every few meters or so. Those generators are forming a heat-shield around the compound, keeping the weather from becoming too severe."

Tobias remembered Blisk saying something about that, how it kept the blizzards outside at bay, and nodded enthusiastically. "He's right, that could work! If we take down those generators, the turrets' targeting systems won't be able to lock onto anything through the snowstorm!"

Gates was skeptical. "Won't destroying the generators take just as long as hacking the turrets?"

"Not if you shut them down all at once before the IMC catches onto what you're doing," McFarlane cut in. "There's a small building in the trench that connects to the main base—I'd wager my last credit that it's the command center for the compound's defense."

"Your point?"

He pointed to himself. "Engineering is my first language. If you can get me in there, I'll know what to look for in their systems—I can have them offline in less than a minute, guarantee it."

Gates nodded as the plan took shape, then waved her hand at the group to get their attention. "Alright, you heard him! Vale, Crane, start escorting our forces back to the extraction point and hold it! The rest of the 6-4 will help you while we take down those generators!"

The Ronin and Scorch gave a half-attempt at a nod to acknowledge her order, then bounded off into the midst of the battle in the courtyard with Bear, Davis, and Droz in tow. Gates watched them leave, then faced Tobias.

"We've got a good plan so far, but we're going to have to find a way through the IMC between us and that trench."

He looked towards McFarlane's new chassis, the one housing June. "I've got one, but I'm gonna need that chassis."

McFarlane looked at him sharply. "I swear, if you're going to get it blown up again—"

"Nothing like that, Rob, I promise."

With a sigh, McFarlane gestured for June to bend down. The Titan did so, presenting his optic and allowing his Pilot to remove his data-core. The chassis became frozen without any AI controlling it, and McFarlane clipped the core to his belt.

Tobias stepped forward and hefted up the data-core in his own hands.

_KT-0298._

He stared at the cracked lens of its optic, a reminder of his failure to protect her. He wouldn't let anything like that ever happen again.

Stepping forward, he slid the core inside and locked it into place. There was some whirring and clicking as the new AI was accepted and integrated into the chassis. After a few moments, the stiffness left the Titan's body as it unfroze and eased into its crouching position. Its optic rotated up, and the lens cap narrowed as though focusing in on him.

"... Tobias?"

He felt a sting in his eyes as she said her first word, and tried not to let his voice waver as he replied, "Hey, KT."

She began looking wildly around, utterly flummoxed by the fact that she wasn't dead. "But—the snow? How ... and you—?"

"I pulled your data-core before I escaped," he explained with a laugh. "There was no way I was going to leave my other half behind."

She said nothing, just staring at him.

He shrugged with a smirk. "I mean, if I was gonna be stuck out there, I figured I could use the company—"

With startling speed, KT reached behind him, and pulled him closer. Her eye closed as she held him near in the closest equivalent of a hug for someone of her size. His wisecrack died in his throat as he opted to close his mouth and simply enjoy this moment in time they'd been given.

Gates and Dimitri watched the odd exchange, both of them astonished at how far the Pilot and Titan had come from that first day that Tobias had volunteered to be her Pilot.

KT released him, and then looked at herself. "I'm unfamiliar with this chassis class. Running analysis..."

He chuckled mildly. "If I recall correctly ... the last time you saw one of these, you called them a bitch."

She realized exactly what her chassis was now, and he could see the understanding dawn on her as she recalled her little outburst on the Kraken a few months ago. "I see."

"Would you prefer something else?"

"... I can make it work."

"I thought so." He patted her head affectionately and locked gazes with her. "We're not out of the woods yet, but we're close. Are you with me?"

"To the bitter end, Tobias." Her reply was quick and without hesitation. "I'd follow you anywhere."

He turned towards Gates, Dimitri, and McFarlane. "KT and I can lead the charge and provide cover as you three follow behind. We'll head into the trench, and follow Rob's instructions."

They all checked their weapons and nodded in acknowledgement. He turned to KT, and she reached behind her to pull a 40mm Tracker Cannon off of her back. "Ready to transfer control to Pilot."

Her hull opened, and he wasted no time in hopping inside. Sitting himself down, the ocular systems lit up with a view from the external cameras, and he felt the sensation of neural control take hold as their minds linked together.

The Tone's weapon system was different than he was used to, but he was more than willing to learn on the job. He waved their arm at the three Pilots on the ground, beckoning them to follow. "Come on!"

He took off at a jog, kicking up white powder wherever they stepped. Two Titans were standing in the frame of the courtyard's entrance, standing guard to keep the Militia from retreating to their extraction point. One of them, a Northstar, noticed him and pointed him out to the other. Its partner, an Ion, took aim with the laser cannon on its shoulder.

 _< I recommend a particle wall, > _came KT's voice, and he obliged. A large, Titan-sized wall of blue light appeared in front of them right as the Ion released its shot, and absorbed the damage. It was no vortex shield, but it would get the job done.

"Thanks for the tip," he grunted, breaking into a sprint and barreling straight at the pair. The Northstar came to meet him while the Ion stayed behind to cover it from afar; an unusual decision that would be severely taken advantage of.

The Northstar charged up a round with its rail-gun, and launched it his way. He sidestepped the blast and quickly moved to close the gap between them. He threw an arm forward and connected a fist with its hull, knocking the less sturdy Titan onto its back. Placing another particle wall down in front of them to avoid any retaliation from the Ion, he continued to hammer both fists into the Northstar until its chassis's front broke apart, and he reached in to yank its Pilot forcefully from the cockpit. He flung his arm backwards and released, sending the Pilot spiraling into the air before coming back down to crash into the ground.

As the particle shield dissipated, the Ion had a surprise waiting for him. He felt the hull jerk backwards as a laser connected with his and KT's midsection, and he jumped to the side to avoid another. Bringing the 40mm around, he fired three shots toward the Ion.

The first connected, but the Ion raised a vortex shield and caught the other two before launching the projectiles right back at them. Ducking to narrowly dodge them, he knew that taking this Titan on would be a bit more difficult.

_< As we're both quite familiar with the Ion chassis, we know that it runs off of a recycled energy pool for its abilities. That shield won't last forever, and if you're quick enough ... >_

He caught on to what she was suggesting. Risky, but it was their best option presently. He began pumping shots in the Ion's direction relentlessly, watching as the Titan carefully caught each one and added them to its growing collection. With every shot, he took a step closer.

The vortex shield continued to drain in power, shifting from a bright turquoise hue to a dim red. Finally popping, the shield vanished when they were only a few meters away and sent all of their missiles soaring back at them.

Reacting with reflexes that only two linked minds could achieve, he placed a particle wall to shield them from harm. The missiles all exploded against the wall, but it held steady just long enough to protect him and KT. As it winked out of existence, he charged forward again.

Grabbing the Ion by its shoulders, he forced it onto the ground and held it in place as he launched a salvo of rockets directly into the enemy Titan. The barrage of warheads tore one after another into the metal of the Titan, and explosions blossomed from within. Now blackened and charred, the Titan slumped to the ground, dead.

 _< I could get used to this chassis, > _hummed KT warmly. He laughed, then pressed on towards the trench beyond the base's perimeter.

The trench was around ten meters deep and thirty meters wide. Large ramps ran along each side of it to allow easy access for vehicles, a design choice Tobias was sure the soldiers in the trench regretted as they watched him and KT descend upon them. As he let off a few shots, they shouted obscenities and scattered through tunnels and other crevices in the walls of the trench en masse, unequipped to take down a Tone up close.

He spotted one of the generators, nearly seven feet tall and twice as long. From its top, a silvery mirage-like field rose up and curved up into the air back towards the base. This was just one section of many that formed the massive bubble over the compound. From here, they could see the blizzard raging beyond the boundary of the heat-shield.

Behind them was a wall of concrete with a single door that sat right in the middle of the trench, effectively segmenting it in two. McFarlane approached it cautiously, pointing it out to the others. "This is it, it's gotta be!"

Tobias opened KT's hull and disembarked. He, Gates, and Dimitri followed McFarlane to the door. The Captain stared at him expectantly. "Well? What are you waiting for?"

"Hang on, it's locked," he murmured, stepping over to a keypad on the right side of the door. Instead of typing in a combination, he ripped off the casing of the pad and exposed the colored wires underneath.

While he worked on unlocking the door, Gates turned to Tobias. "So, what can you tell us about what you found here? This one here and the other two kept talking about alien ruins—is that true?"

He hesitated to answer, not sure how much info he wanted to give her. Then again, he didn't want to draw suspicion to himself ...

Dimitri tapped him on the shoulder. "Go ahead, Four. What did you find?"

He relaxed a bit. If Dimitri thought it was okay, then he'd share. "Some branch of the IMC, the ARES Division, has been hunting an artifact here on Erebus called 'the Codex'. It's an alien device that can alter reality, and they wanted to use it to power the fold-weapon."

McFarlane stripped the rubber off of two wires in particular, one red and one black, and exposed the conductive metal. Pressing them together, he gave a small cheer of victory as the keypad screen flashed green and unlocked the door.

"We're in!"

He stood up and opened the door, allowing Gates and Dimitri to enter. Tobias turned to KT. "Keep watch for us, alright?"

"Affirmative," she replied, spinning around and lifting her Tracker Cannon. With her standing guard, Tobias followed the other two and left McFarlane to close the door behind them.

"Is that what you showed us?" Gates asked, piggybacking off his explanation. "The orb?"

He nodded. "They had a problem, though—only a person with certain traits could use it. I had to try to keep it away from them, so I grabbed it. A voice started speaking to me, telling me I was different and 'entwined' ... whatever that means." He shrugged. "In any matter, turns out that I was what it was looking for. It made me 'the Inferno', the Codex's keeper."

"So that burst of energy we detected ... that was you?" Dimitri surmised.

"Yeah. After that, I blacked out and woke up here. It was a good thing you guys came along when you did."

McFarlane walked over to a control console near the wall and booted up a monitor. Taking off his helmet, he set it down on an empty space next to him. "Alright, I'm looking through their systems' conduit now, trying to follow the flow of power. I'll have those generators down in just a minute."

Tobias nodded, and retrieved his data-knife. He gestured at it to Dimitri. "All the proof you need is on this. It has every file I could steal concerning the IMC and their projects related to Erebus."

"You still have it?" Gates asked, her voice full of awe. "This will change everything—we can be ahead of the IMC at every step! Here, give it to me, I'll hold onto it for—"

In one swift movement, he reached around to pull the Flatline off his back and aimed at Gates as Dimitri drew a B-3 Wingman revolver and did the same. Gates jumped backwards, immediately raising her hands in the air.

"Oi, what the hell?! What do you two think you're—"

"Someone's been passing information along to the IMC," he calmly explained, his eyes narrowed. "Someone close to me. I should have seen it from the start—why else would you have been there for me every step of the way? Why else would you insist on helping me plan out every mission?"

He swallowed hard. "I should have known someone like you would never have cared about someone like ... _me."_

She seemed to be at a loss for words. "I don't ... never cared? You really ...?" She shook her head vigorously. "I would never want to hurt you! I've spent the last week bawling my eyes out because I thought you were dead, I ... I _love_ you, goddamn it!" Her voice became constricted with hurt and betrayal, her arms visibly shaking at his accusations.

She glanced over at Dimitri. "And you... you think that too? That I'd betray you, that I'm ... what, some kind of spy?"

Dimitri's voice was full of uncertainty. "I don't know what to believe ... but he has a point. You have access to Militia files, connections with Briggs and the chain of command ... the shoe fits. I don't want to kill you, you've been a good friend for years—but I will if you try anything."

She realized that they were both serious. She turned back to Tobias again, her voice pleading. "Tobias ... please. Don't do this."

McFarlane had stayed silent the entire time, simply watching the exchange with wide eyes. He and Dimitri faced Tobias and awaited his judgement.

His throat tightened, his resolve threatening to crumble. McFarlane had stayed silent the entire time, simply watching the exchange with wide eyes. He and Dimitri faced Tobias and awaited his judgement.

After a long pause, he nodded to Dimitri, then pointed towards a pipe running along the wall of the room. "If you've got any restraints, lock her to that. Keep her from interfering with anything—we can sort out what to do with her later."

Dimitri reluctantly kept his aim on her while simultaneously pulling out a pair of metal cuffs. Locking one of her wrists in them, he connected the other to a segment of the pipe with two large studs on either side, effectively meaning she could only move a foot or so in either direction. Then, he removed the radio transmitter from her helmet and pocketed it, nullifying her as a threat once and for all. She said nothing during the process, but glared at both of them as it was carried out.

Tobias couldn't look at her any longer, and turned to watch McFarlane instead. Dimitri saw the motion and walked over to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, Four—it's alright. She can't do anything now."

He hung his head sadly. "That's not it. I ... I trusted her with my life. With _everything_. I ... I _loved_ her. How can I trust _anyone_ anymore after ... after the person I trusted the most betrayed me? After she turned out to be a spy?"

"Oh, she's not the spy."

_BANG!_

He felt the bullet of the Wingman tear right through him as Gates screamed in horror from the side of the room. Crumpling to the ground with an agonizing gasp, he landed on his back and watched as Dimitri raised the gun's smoking barrel up to his lips and blew on it.

"I am."


	26. The Bitter End

Tobias' hand scrabbled to his midsection. He felt a large hole on the right side of his stomach where the bullet had exited—it had gone straight through. He twitched in pain and heard the sound of his blood splashing as it pooled underneath him. He'd dropped the Flatline next to him, and Dimitri hastily stepped forward to kick it away.

"Oh, _shit!"_

Tobias watched as Dimitri raised the Wingman up to take aim at McFarlane, but the latter was already in motion. Ducking down to avoid the first shot, he sprinted forward and tackled the 6-4 Pilot to the ground. They rolled across the floor, each of them struggling to gain an advantage over the other.

He looked around blearily for his gun. He spotted it a few meters away, close to Gates' foot, and reached a hand out towards it. Gates noticed his movement, followed his gaze to the rifle, and understood what he was trying to do. Grunting as she struggled against the cuffs binding her to the pipe, she tried to grab it with her free hand—but it was too far away.

Changing positions for a different approach, she straightened out as far as she could with her leg. Once fully stretched, she was just barely able to touch it. Moving the tip of her boot next to its stock, she nudged it as hard as she could towards Tobias. It skidded to within arm's reach of him, and he extended one hand out to grab it—

McFarlane gave a sharp cry of pain as Dimitri kicked him away and sent him tumbling to the floor. He rolled right into the gun's path, pushing it away from Tobias once again. Dimitri closed the gap between himself and McFarlane, bringing the revolver up to his opponent's temple. McFarlane managed to grab Dee's hand that was holding the gun, and jerked it upwards right as it fired. He took the opportunity to throw a punch of his own that managed to connect with the freelancer's faceplate.

Dimitri staggered back just enough to allow McFarlane to roll backwards and onto his feet. Pressing his newfound dominance, he brought his foot back and swung it forward to collide with the traitor's jaw. Dimitri's helmet went flying off, and he stumbled backwards. McFarlane leapt into the air, readied his fist, and used his jump-kit to thrust downward—

With the reflexes of a snake, Dimitri side-stepped and caught McFarlane's outstretched arm in his grasp. Then, he brought it down over his rising knee and snapped it at the elbow.

_"AAHH!"_

McFarlane's guttural scream of pain didn't last long before Dimitri shoved him away and held the Wingman up again.

_BANG!_

_BANG!_

_BANG!_

Blood sprayed outwards from McFarlane's back. Slowly, the Pilot looked down to stare at the newly created orifices in his chest, then collapsed on the ground with a pained gasp.

His chest heaving with exertion, Dimitri lowered the weapon and ran a hand through his buzzed hair, wiping away the sweat that had collected from his fight. "Damn, you gave me a good run for my money. Had me worried for a minute there." Leaning down, he collected his helmet off the ground and slipped it back onto his head.

"Blisk, I've taken care of the situation. I'll be heading back to base shortly."

After a moment, he looked over at Tobias' sprawled form on the floor, then to the data-knife lying next to him. "Sorry, but I'm afraid that I can't let you keep this." Lifting his foot up, he brought it down with no small amount of force. A metallic _twang_ could be heard as the blade snapped in half, and he admired his handiwork.

Still losing blood, it was taking every ounce of strength Tobias had left to not pass out. "Wh ... w-why?"

He shrugged. "Same reason most people do anything, really—someone paid me a _lot_ of money."

"You son of a bitch!" Gates shouted furiously from the side, shaking her cuffed hand against the pipe. "We're supposed to be better than this, better than just working for the highest bidder—!"

"Well, not everyone shares your misguided self-righteousness, Elizabeth," Dimitri sighed. "A merc's got to make a profit—why should I care who's funding it?

He knelt down in front of Tobias. "Since the second I met you, I knew you were going to be trouble. But Gates wouldn't let me just throw you out the damned airlock, and then she had the bright idea to let you partner with the Titan you found on Nedar ... and everything just spiraled out of control from there."

He snorted. "I mean, really—you had _one_ assignment, and suddenly you're infiltrating an IMC data-center? That could have been the end of it, but _no,_ Gates had to have us go and save your ass!" Dimitri shook his head in wonder. "Goddamn, I think you're the most determined person I've ever met. When you came up with the plan to raid the Kraken, I actually encouraged you—I figured that this idea of yours was so reckless that it was a sure bet you'd die carrying it out."

He threw his hands up into the air. "But you survived! And then you _kept_ surviving. And damn it, you just don't know when to die, do you? One bump in the road after another, but you always manage to crawl your way to the finish line. Well, not this time."

Rifling through Tobias' pouches, he pulled out the Codex and held it out to examine it. "Hard to believe this little thing's worth all the trouble everyone's gone through to get it." He looked back to Tobias and chortled. "Thanks for the paycheck, Four."

Placing the Codex in one of his own pouches, he stood up and turned towards a tunnel at the back of the room that connected this place to the main compound. As he walked out, he turned back to Tobias one last time.

"Who knows? If you don't bleed out in the next few minutes, maybe we'll be working together again at some point. Blisk's offer is still open!"

Then he disappeared down the tunnel.

Tobias watched him leave, then turned his attention to McFarlane who was lying still a few feet away from him.

"Rob ..."

Dragging himself over, he placed a hand on his friend's chest and tried to apply pressure—but it was too little too late. There wasn't much he could do at this point, McFarlane's whole front was practically painted red. A steady stream of blood trickled from his mouth as the green of his eyes met the blue of Tobias'.

"F-Four ..."

"Hey," Tobias whispered. "H-Hang ... in there, a-alright? We'll ... g-get you help—"

McFarlane let out something between a wheezing cough and a laugh. "Y-You're one to t-talk ..."

Tobias looked down at his own wound, crimson still flowing freely from it. The other Pilot was right—he was hardly in better shape. Even now, he could sense the edges of his mind starting to feel fuzzy, like the droning hum of white noise.

"I'm s-sorry," McFarlane choked out suddenly, red spittle flying from his lips. "For w-when I m-met you, I-I mean."

"What? N-None of that m-matters now," Tobias assured him, but McFarlane shook his head.

"It ... d-does to me." His voice hitched in his throat. "You've ... y-you've been a great f-friend to me, Four. M-More than ... more than I d-deserved."

He raised his left forearm, the unbroken one, and gripped Tobias' hand tightly in his, pressing his sidearm into it, a P2011 Hammond pistol.

"This ... t-this isn't on ... you." His eyes darted towards the tunnel at the back of the room. "That ... bastard d-did this. You h-have ... to stop him b-before ... before he ... he ..."

"Rob? Rob!"

McFarlane's eyes lost their focus, staring at something beyond that which Tobias could see. His lips parted slightly, and one final, quiet breath escaped them—then, he fell silent forevermore.

Tobias stared at the body of his friend numbly. Gates watched him quietly from her imprisonment several meters away. "Tobias, I ... I'm so sorry."

"This ... this is m-my fault," he murmured.

"No, you heard what he said—"

"I thought ..." he continued absentmindedly, almost speaking to himself more than her now, "I thought y-you were the spy. I ... I g-got him killed."

He couldn't do much more than lay there, he felt his arms and legs growing weaker by the minute—he was losing too much blood. Soon, he wouldn't be able to move. If he was going to do something, it had to be now.

She shook her head. "This is on Dee's head, not yours! Just sit tight and stay awake, we'll figure something out ..."

Looking down, she rummaged through her belt with her free hand. After a few seconds, her hand emerged triumphantly with two items which she tossed over to him; a first-aid cocktail and med-tape. They landed near his head, only a foot away or so.

Pushing himself away from McFarlane's body, he grabbed both of them and brought them closer. Grunting with every painful movement, he undid the clasps and buckles of his chest-armor until it fell to the floor with a soft _whump._

Lifting his undersuit to expose the bullet-hole, he slapped the cocktail, a small, circular device with three sharp prongs, right over the wound. He grimaced as it latched onto his skin and began injecting him with a mix of disinfectant, adrenaline boosters, and pain suppressors. The sharp, stabbing pain of his injury was lessening, now becoming more of a dull, distant throbbing. With it in place, he began using the adhesive gauze to tape over it and stem any additional blood flow. Reaching around behind him, he did the same thing on his back to his best approximation.

The cloudiness of his mind was dissipating as the cocktail did its work, and he found himself with a clear head again. The static had been pushed back for now—but he had to do what he needed to before it returned. Pushing himself up onto his feet, he staggered over to McFarlane's helmet, still on the control console, and grabbed it. He walked over to Gates and knelt down next to her.

"Here. The radio-transmitter should work for you."

Placing the helmet in her lap, he stood back up and stumbled over to his Flatline, retrieving it from the floor and holding it tightly in his hands. Gates, who had expected him to free her, now cocked her head in confusion. "Aren't going to get me out of this thing?"

"You'd just follow me."

With his rifle in hand, he set off down the tunnel. Gates watched him go with panic creeping into her voice. "Wait, where the hell are you going?!" She yanked her chained hand desperately against the pipe, filling the room with the sound of metal banging against metal. "Come back here, damn it!"

He ignored her cries as he left, his back retreating down the tunnel.

"Tobias! _Tobias!"_

**...**

KT was beginning to grow worried as the four of them never came out. What could be taking them so long?

She'd been keeping watch on the trenches and the battle still raging in the courtyard. It seemed as though both the Militia and IMC were evenly matched for the time being, but that wouldn't be the case for long if no reinforcements were coming to help—

_"KT!"_

She heard a voice over the comlink channel, one she hadn't expected to hear. "Captain Gates?"

_"Everything's gone to hell! I'm trapped in here, I need you to get me out!"_

Her mind racing, KT didn't wait for an explanation to act. Bringing one fist back, she drove it forward into the concrete wall.

_WHAM._

Frost shook itself free from the roof and walls as she made contact. She drew her fist back again.

_WHAM._

A large crack had appeared in the wall, one that didn't look like it could withstand another blow. She gathered as much force as she could for one last punch ...

**_WHAM!_ **

The concrete broke apart and crumbled in a cloud of dust and debris. She peeked inside and saw Gates hand-cuffed to a pipe along the wall.

The Captain beckoned to her and pointed at her predicament. "Give me a hand with this!"

KT reached through the hole, grabbed the section of the pipe which the Captain was cuffed to, and snapped it. Gates wasted no time in sliding the handcuffs off of the broken edge, and ran to her side. "Dimitri's a damned spy! He killed McFarlane, then took the Codex and ran off—"

"Where's Tobias?" KT asked fearfully, looking around the interior and seeing McFarlane's corpse in a puddle of blood. She noticed another one a few feet away that had smeared as though someone had been rolling around and stepping in it.

Gates pointed down a shaft at the back of the room. "He went after him! Left me here, said I'd just follow—"

KT tuned her out as she looked towards the IMC complex and tuned into her neural link with Tobias. She could feel him on the other end of the connection, his rage bubbling over in droves.

"Tobias, what are you doing? What's the plan here?"

His response was curt and blunt. _< Shut down the turrets. Get the Codex back. Kill Dimitri. >_

"Not that I don't doubt your resolve, but you're alone,"she argued. "And you don't sound like you're in any shape to be fighting—"

 _< I know what I'm doing, Kay. Get everyone to the evac zone, I'll meet you there when this is over._ >

Without any further explanation, he closed his mind to her. She recoiled from his brashness, and tried to get his attention again. "Tobias? Tobias, you answer me right now!"

Gates watched as the Titan stomped her foot in frustration, then looked down to stare at her. "He's not answering anymore. He wants us to help gather the Militia forces around the exfiltration point."

"I hope he knows what he's doing," the Captain grumbled angrily, running off through the trench. "Let's move!"

KT glanced at the compound anxiously.

_I hope so too._

**...**

Tobias held the Flatline in front of him as he pushed through the halls. He followed the directions painted on the walls towards the command center, checking every corner for a hint of danger. Thankfully, it seemed that the IMC had thrown every last soldier at their disposal out into the war-zone that had once been the courtyard.

His search led him to a room similar looking to the one he and Vale had found at the other outpost. He poked his head out around the edge to make sure it was empty, then double-checked for any shimmering in the air; he refused to be caught off-guard by a cloak Pilot again.

When he was sure that the room was clear, he shuffled his way over to a console directly ahead, what seemed to be the main set of controls. From here, he had access to any system in the entire IMC compound—he wouldn't even need his data-knife for what came next.

He found a set of switches and knobs that controlled the energy output of the heat-shield generators. Hastily, he turned them all down to zero, and looked outside through the large window in front of him to enjoy the fruits of his labor.

The waviness in the air above the compound disappeared, and the blizzard came rolling through in full-force. In a matter of seconds, the courtyard had been enveloped in a near-whiteout. With no clear targets, the turrets would remain idle and harmless—the Griffin could start sending in dropships now.

With his plan's first step complete, he scanned the console for his next target—the complex's main intercom. He spotted the microphone on his left, and thumbed the button beneath it.

"This is Tobias Four to all Militia forces, get to the extraction point! I've taken the compound's anti-air defenses down, repeat, the anti-air defenses are down! Get the hell out of here!"

Letting go of the button, he took a step back, then raised the Flatline and unloaded the entirety of his magazine into the console. Sparks flew as circuitry and metal was destroyed—now, the IMC couldn't get those systems back online without anything short of a miracle. His work done, he sat against the bullet-riddled console and watched the door with his Flatline for who he knew was coming.

He waited.

It took no more than two minutes for his gambit to pay off. He heard a single pair of footsteps outside in the hall, and Dimitri stepped into view around the doorframe. His Wingman was already raised and aimed at Tobias in response to the latter's leveled Flatline, putting them both at an impasse. Tobias watched as the other Pilot's visor depolarized, allowing him to see Dimitri's face within his helmet.

"Well, well, well. Look who clawed his way out of death's clutches _again._ "The mercenary shook his head in amazement. "I know I should be pissed off, but I have to give credit where credit's due—you're one tough son of a bitch."

Tobias glared at him. "You forgot one crucial detail about the Codex when you left me to die."

Dimitri paused. "And what would that be?"

"It can only be used by the Inferno—and if you recall, that's me." He nodded his head towards the Wingman. "You kill me, the Codex becomes nothing more than a pretty paperweight." He shrugged. "Maybe you don't care about that, but I doubt ARES would be very happy with you."

Dimitri narrowed his eyes as he processed Tobias' words. "What's your game, Four?"

"Fight me. No weapons, winner takes the Codex—unless you're worried you'll lose?"

He hoped that little jab against Dimitri's ego would provoke him. To emphasize the point, he threw his Flatline to the floor. "If you win, you've got both the Codex and the only person who can make it work."

A thoughtful expression came over Dimitri's face. "Interesting. A free excuse to beat the shit out of you, _and_ I get to personally deliver you to Marder?" Grinning, he lowered the Wingman and tossed it to the side where the Flatline was. "How can I say no?"

Retrieving the Codex from his pouches, Dimitri placed it on a table to one side of the room for safety. Tobias held his hands up in a boxer's stance, though he teetered slightly off-balance. The mercenary gave a short bark of laughter. "You've just made the biggest mistake of your life."

Dimitri charged hard and fast, unexpectedly so. A fist slammed into the side of Tobias' helmet, and he jerked away reflexively. A well-placed elbow found its mark right in his stomach, right where he'd been shot, and it took every ounce of willpower he had to not shriek in pain.

Changing tactics to play offense, he swung a fist upward and connected with Dimitri's solar plexus. The mercenary staggered back with a wheezing cough, holding a hand to his chest. "Solid punch, Four—I was worried you'd make this too easy!"

Dimitri aimed a kick at Tobias' ribs. The latter dodged, then attempted to counter with an uppercut. Dimitri caught his arm and threw it to the side so that Tobias spun away from him, then placed his foot against the wound on Tobias' back and shoved him into the computer console.

Tobias felt the visor of his helmet shatter against the force being driven against it, shards of glass trickling onto the console. Dimitri grabbed him by the back of his collar, pulled him up, then struck him with a cross. His helmet flew off entirely, but the mercenary wasn't done. Grabbing him by his hair, Dimitri slammed Tobias' face into the console again. Skin and bone met metal harshly, and his vision began to swim.

Tobias launched himself at Dimitri and began to tear and claw at anything that he could get his hands on. Grabbing him by the shoulders, Dimitri picked him up and threw him across the room. His head slammed into the floor, and he could hear his own heartbeat throbbing in his ears.

_This is it._

He moved his right hand towards his belt, fumbling to find what he needed. Dimitri didn't notice, instead taking a moment to kneel down over Tobias and gloat into his bruised, bloody face. "Did you actually think you could beat me in a fight? Even after taking a bullet? I've been doing this for years, Four. I'm stronger, I'm faster—

He froze as he heard the click of a pistol's hammer, and Tobias narrowed his eyes. "Maybe ... but it looks like I'm smarter."

Pulling the trigger of McFarlane's P2011 that he held outstretched in his hand, he shot at the Codex. The bullet's aim was true, and both he and Dimitri watched it as it tore through the air and impacted against the crystalline orb—

The reaction was instantaneous. An explosion of red unlike anything they'd ever seen sprang from the orb and swallowed them in its fury. Tobias felt like his skin was melting right off of his bones, like his flesh had been doused in lighter fluid and set aflame with a blowtorch—

The red energy started to swirl around the room, seemingly searching for something in the storm. The same point of light he'd seen at site 127-D revolved around Dimitri a few times before flying away, apparently deciding he wasn't what it was after. Then it came to Tobias and coiled around him, assessing him ...

Without warning, it thrust itself into his chest like it had done before, and he knew what he was feeling was the Codex literally bonding itself to him—its energy penetrated him at the atomic level, joining itself with him in a painful, fiery dance until he truly felt like he'd become a living inferno.

_"NO!"_

Dimitri lunged at him. In an instant, the Codex's energy unleashed itself upon the mercenary in full, stripping him bare of his armor, flesh, and muscle in a matter of seconds. He screamed incoherently for what little time he could before even his bones were reduced to nothing but dust.

Then, it was over. The explosion seemed to become absorbed by Tobias, flowing into him and illuminating him for a brief moment before all was still once more, and he fell to the floor. His chest heaved with exertion and fear, and he glanced around in shock that he was still alive. He rose to his knees, and patted himself down—he was still in one piece as far as he could tell.

The pile of ash in front of him had not been so lucky. He stared at it blankly, unsure of how to react to the man's death. Before he could decide, he heard shouts echoing throughout the halls not far from him.

Groaning, he pulled himself over to one side of the room, and slumped against the wall tiredly.

_Now comes the hard part._

**...**

KT was shepherding other Militia forces forward, defending them from pursuing IMC Titans and riflemen. Widow dropships were rapidly descending now that the skies were safe, opening their doors and pulling as many humans and Titans they could fit aboard. She looked around, growing more nervous with every minute that passed where she didn't see Tobias—

_< Kay. >_

She released a bit of her tension once his voice came through their neural link. "I'm here, Tobias, where are you? You have to hurry, the dropships won't be able to stay for much longer!"

There was nothing but silence on the other end. She was beginning to feel like something was off. "Tobias? Are you there?"

_< ... I'm not coming with you. >_

Time stopped.

Gates, who was standing nearby, noticed the way her chassis froze up. "KT? What's the matter?"

"Tobias says he's not coming with."

The Captain was taken aback. "What?"

_< I'm sorry, Kay. I knew this was a one-way trip, but ... I had to stop him. All of this would have been for nothing, otherwise. And I didn't tell you because ... well, you'd have never let me go alone. >_

"I can come get you!" KT protested. "Send me your location, I'll—"

_< There's no time for that, and you know it. >_

She did know it, and that didn't do anything to quell her rising hysteria. "Why didn't you let me come with you? I told you I'd follow you anywhere—"

_< Not this time. If you'd come with, they would have just taken you too—or worse, destroyed you. I couldn't live with myself if that happened. >_

"And how is this better?!" KT finally yelled, the first time she'd ever done so at him. "How is this better, you leaving me like this? How could you do this to me?!"

_< I had to make sure you were safe, Kay. I'm ... I'm sorry. >_

She said nothing. There was nothing left to say—she was going to lose him, just like she'd lost Shears. She was having flashbacks to that night on Nedar, crouching over her Pilot as blood stained the pristine, white snow ... only this time, it was Tobias she was mourning. And now it was happening again; she was going to lose her Pilot.

She was going to lose her ... _everything._

"Come on!" a rifleman shouted to her and Gates. "We gotta get the hell out of here!" Indeed, most of the Militia forces had found their way onto a dropship by now, only a few Titans were still helping to hold the enemy force back.

_< Kay... >_

She held onto his voice like a lifeline. "Tobias?"

_< I didn't want to put you through any of this ... I didn't want to break my promise that I'd never abandon you. >_

His reminder of that promise sent another wave of hurt coursing through her. "But you have to."

He sounded resigned to his fate. _< But I have to. >_

 _"LAST CALL!"_ shouted a Pilot standing inside a nearby Widow. Numbly, KT and Gates rushed to board.

_< Kay, you're the best damn friend I could have ever asked for. I wish I could have been a better one to you ... but right now, I have to uphold the mission. And that means being more of a machine than a friend. >_

She stared out at the facility as the dropship began to rise, feeling like she was leaving her whole world behind.

_< I'll miss you, Kay. >_

She felt herself wilt internally at his goodbye. "And I'll miss you."

The dropship ascended through the upper layers of the atmosphere and into orbit. "Jump-calculations have finished!" the pilot called back to the ship's occupants. "Jumping in three ... two ... mark!"

With that split-second flash of light and space-bending, they materialized back in Militia space. The view of Erebus was gone, and along with it, Tobias. She heard a sniffle next to her as Gates removed her helmet and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand.

As an AI, KT wasn't physically able to cry. But as the cold, dark feelings of loneliness washed over her ... she found herself wishing she could.  
  


* * *

  
And so, we come full circle—the butterfly has made it through the inferno, its wings singed and torn. Only now can we see how far that butterfly has journeyed, only now can we appreciate the effect of its actions. From a humbling origin on a frozen world to a bitter end on another, from a chance meeting of two foes to the tearful goodbye of best friends ... perhaps more. Only time will tell.

This is no end.

Though the butterfly may be gone for now, its story has not yet concluded. There is more of this chronicle to tell, more of this legend to unravel.

It gives one pause—does he know what role he plays in this grand scheme? Is he aware of what strings are being pulled from above as he awaits his capture, what otherworldly forces of the past have led to what lies ahead in his future?

The butterfly may have braved the inferno ... but now it's time for it to face the coming tempest.  
  


**  
** **END OF BOOK ONE**


End file.
